Seven
by KylieRiley
Summary: To find out exactly what happened to them, the team would be forced to take Emily and Reid back to the scene of the crime. Reid/Emily/Morgan focus. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Criminal Minds.

**Summary: **To find out exactly what happened to them, the team would be forced to take Emily and Reid back to the scene of the crime. Reid/Emily/Morgan/Hotch focus.

**A/N: **All the characters will be in this, but it mostly centers on Prentiss, Reid, and Morgan. Okay, so this idea has been in my head for awhile now and I finally decided to give it a shot and write a story for once. So I hope it's okay. The inspiration from this story comes from the movie Seven and The story Seasons Without Sun on the bones fandom. It's an amazing story, read it if you like the tv Bones. (Oh, and the first few lines - with some changes - is from the book _The Book Thief_, by Markus Zusak. If you haven't read it, I highly recommend it.)

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**--Seven--**

**_"Mankind is not likely to salvage civilization unless he can evolve a system of good and evil which is independed of heaven and hell," George Orwell_**

**Chapter 1**

It felt as if the whole globe was dressed in snow. Like it had pulled it on, the way you pull on a sweater. Next to the abandoned building, footprints were sunken to their shins. Trees wore blankets of ice. The men – and a few women – were dressed all in black, which held three or four letters written across their backs. They moved fast, keeping the heavy metal at eyes level. It had been exactly five months, three weeks, twenty-seven minutes and seventeen seconds since they had last seen their beloved colleagues, and tonight that clock stopped ticking.

Yes, tonight, they were finally getting their friends back.

Derek Morgan found himself accompanying a SWAT team through the dark, abandoned building. It was late, it was cold, and it was the darkest moment before dawn. The snow had been falling consistently for some time now and the sky was black with despair. But it had been over five months and nothing was going to stop him. The hallway was long and dark. Just like the sky. The color of black. The color of hopelessness. The color of the doors. They were both tall and menacing, and they threatened him to guess what was behind them. Endless possibilities raced through his mind, but they had been studying this profile for months. Yes, he already knew.

They searched every inch of the six rooms, but nobody was there. The building was as empty as it looked from the outside. For a moment, fear swelled up inside of him as he wondered if they got the wrong place, but he shook himself of that barbaric thought. Garcia was _never_ wrong.

"Morgan." It was Rossi. "He could have moved them."

"No. They're here," he insisted. They waited too long for this moment. They were here. He was sure of it. "He wouldn't have had time to move them."

"He's right," Hotch told them. "There's no way this guy could have known that we were coming, and even if he did, he wouldn't have been able to move them far."

They know that Reid and Emily weren't dead, but it still didn't stop that nagging feeling in their chests. It taunted them; saying they were too late, out of time. The voice of death wouldn't leave them alone, and it would never until they found their friends alive.

"Hey!" A voice called from another room. "I think I found something!"

They wasted no time running to the end of the hall and out the door, where a woman with curly red hair stood. Her name was Jessica and she had helped them in more ways than one with this case. Morgan would give her his life for just that.

"Footprints," she said, pointing to the snow. "Three sets."

Rossi looked up at the sky, which threatened to fall at any moment, and then back at the footsteps, which were already disappearing with a fresh coat of snow. They led dangerously into the frosty forest, winding around the trees before vanishing into the dark. "We'll never find them at this hour."

"If we don't find them now," Morgan argued, "they'll die. That blizzard is going to hit soon."

Hotch sighed. "Bring in the dogs."

**7**

The wind howled. The sky grew darker, blacker. The snow began to fall in heavy and unending clumps. They could barely see two feet in front of them, but it was only the beginning. The real storm was meant to hit in an hour. Yet, they still trudged on.

And on.

"Agent Morgan, Agent Hotchner," a man called from behind them, but Morgan hardly spared a glance. The snow was already above his ankles, which was making their journey more difficult than necessary. "Stop."

And only because they couldn't feel their feet anymore, they obeyed. "What?" Hotch asked, more than annoyed.

"We can't go any further. The storm will hit soon. If we continue, we might not make it back," the head of the search party struggled to explain. Morgan was pretty sure the guy's name was Eric. He looked like an Eric.

Morgan looked the man straight in the eye. "I'm not stopping."

"Neither am I," Hotch said, taking his side.

"Please," Rossi begged, "just a little longer."

"We _have _to go back. If we don't go now, then we'll never make it down the mountain in time before the storm hits." Eric sighed. "Look guys…"

The man spoke two words then and said them with great uneasiness. In translation, two giant words that were struggled with, carried on his shoulder, and then dropped as a bungling pair at his feet. They fell off sideways as Hotch and the others veered with them and could no longer sustain their weight. Together, they sat in the snow, large and loud and clumsy. The two words: _I'm sorry_.

But because there was such a thing as a miracle, the two search dogs from up ahead barked their signal bark. You could say it was fate. You could say it was just meant to be. Or you could even say they were just lucky. But whatever you believed in, it all came down to one thing: who did you blame when something went wrong? That was the question Morgan had been asking himself for that last five months. Was he to blame? Was it Hotch or Rossi? Hell, at one point he even blamed _Reid _for the kidnapping, but now that question seemed so absurd, he wondered how he could really blame anyone at all.

But mind you, he had yet to reach those barking dogs. Maybe then, he might blame someone.

It was race against time and finally that race had come to an end. And where exactly? At an old abandoned shack, less than a mile away from the abandoned building. From the outside, it was wooden, dismantled, and looked like it could have hardly withstood the howling wind. No doubt it would be torn to pieces in a few short hours.

"Reid, Emily!" Morgan called out, but his voice got lost in the night.

Catching the signal from Hotch, he raised his gun and kicked down the door. They stormed in, ransacking the small place with a prize in sight. It was dark, just like the sky, just like their souls, but they could see them. They were hardly recognizable cowering in the corner, clinging to each for life and warmth, but it was them. They wore nothing but overgrown knitted sweaters, but they were alive. Their unsub, however, was nowhere in sight. Letting out a sigh of relief and frustration, Morgan took a step towards them.

"Thank God." Even he could hear the crack, the yearning in his voice. Any other time he might have cared that he showed so much emotion in front of his co-workers, but now, now he relished in it.

"Reid, Emily," Hotch said. If Reid and Emily were aware that they were there with them, they gave no outward indication of it.

"Hey, kid…" Rossi tried this time.

They didn't even flinch and if it wasn't for the way they were violently shivering, Morgan would have thought they were dead. They _looked _dead, but he quickly pushed that thought away, ridding himself of the thought. Sighing once more, Morgan took another step towards them. He waited so long for this moment, but now that it was finally happening, he really wasn't sure what to do. But he didn't have to decided, because at that moment he stepped on a creepy floor board and Reid's head snapped up.

The kid's eyes were wide open now, but registered nothing at all. As Morgan witnessed this reaction from him, or lack of one, it served to bring a sharp, twisting pain to his heart. Emily, however, still had her face buried somewhere in Reid's shoulder, but even in the dimly lit light Morgan could see the outline of angry red welts, where wire had been tightly wrapped around.

"…Spencer…it's Morgan," he tried. He took the tiniest of steps closer, but Reid panicked then and not wanting to scare them, Morgan retreated. Never had he expected to see such all-consuming fright in his friend's eyes. Even when Reid had been kidnapped by Tobias over a year ago, this wasn't the same fear. Now, all Morgan saw was hopelessness. "Kid, calm down. It's Derek. I'm not going to hurt you. You're okay now. You're okay."

He tried to keep his voice smooth and soft like honey, but nothing seemed to make the connection in Reid's mind. The boy genius, who remembered everything he read, who could read twenty thousand words per minute, did not remember him.

"My God," Rossi breathed out, "they don't know who we are."

"Emily," Morgan tried instead, but that caused Reid to turn on them so suddenly, it made them all jump back in surprise.

"Reid…" Hotch spoke calmly, hesitantly.

"Leave her alone," Reid rasped out as he stumbled to his feet and pulled Emily up along with him. Now they could see their almost transparent skin, see their unnatural thinness, and see the violent bruises matting their bodies, which told the story of what had happened to them.

Morgan hardly recognized Reid's voice. It was the first time he had heard him speak in over five months and it was not the voice he had been hoping for. "Reid… we aren't going to hurt you. It's us….Me. Morgan. Don't you remember?"

Reid gave him an odd look of fear before raising a shaking hand. It disappeared into his knitted shirt before pulling out an all too familiar object. Morgan felt his stomach lurch inside of him at having to raise his own gun back up, but if Reid didn't drop the weapon, then neither could he.

"Reid…?" Rossi began, unsure, but he too raised his gun.

Morgan eyed the barrel of the gun which was currently being occupied by his deranged friend. How Reid got a gun, he couldn't be sure, nor did he care. When he imagined their rescue, this wasn't how it was played out. There was no blizzard. Emily and Reid were left unscratched. Their unsub was caught. And there most definitely was no gun involved. But nothing had been going as according to plan.

And it wouldn't.

"Put down the gun, Reid," he tried again.

But Reid looked Morgan straight in the eye before clicking off the safety and aiming it straight at Morgan's head.

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**So should I continue?**

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	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks so much for everyone who reviewed! Means a lot. Now this chapter is a little bit longer, but stick with me (Please? haha) I'm just setting up the storyline. Also, this takes place sometime at the end of season three, beginning of season four. =)**

**And thanks again by the amount of Reviews I recieved. I was surprised, but very happy. Oh, you guys should know... that I've started school already, so updates will be sorta slow. I'm going to try and update once a week, but depending on the amount of reviews I get, I might update sooner. We will see. **

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**--Seven--**

**Chapter 2**

_Jennifer Jareau, commonly known as 'JJ', hobbled her way up the small staircase and took a sharp corner into the conference room. __Traditionally, this high-tech, state-of-the-art facility was a virtual ghost town on a Sunday, summer afternoon, but like her, the other six members of the team rarely took a holiday. She sighed with relief when Morgan - the perfect gentleman that he was - pulled out a chair for her to sit in and she, of course, accepted it without hesitation. In her profession, she was a woman unaccustomed to standing still and hated chivalry when on the job, but the beauty of pregnancy was finally taking its toll on her. Now, she didn't mind change so much. _

"_Tired, JJ?" Emily asked, smiling softly at the woman's yawn._

"_You could say that," she told her friend dryly. _

_Rossi leaned back in his chair, already a smug expression in place. "Ah, the beauties of pregnancy."_

_JJ placed a tired – but happy, she was always happy – hand on her stomach. "I just had morning sickness, I constantly have to pee, and no matter how much sleep I get, I'm still tired," she told them, her tone teasing. "Remind me again why women supposedly 'glow' when they're pregnant?" _

_Morgan smiled mischievously before poking her in the ribs. "Ah, come on, JJ. You should know better than anyone that that was just some lie a guy made up to get his wife off his back."_

"_Ha-ha," she said, her voice leaking with sarcasm. _

"_Right now, your baby is about the size of an avocado," Reid told her seriously. _

"_Eh…thanks?" _

_Garcia made a face. "Boy Wonder, why? All I ask is what brought that up?"_

"_No, really," Reid insisted, ignoring the snickers from the others. "He's probably around four and half inches and three and half ounces.__ His heart is now pumping about twenty-five quarts of blood each day, and the amount will continue to increase as your baby continues to develop.__ He's probably even starting to grow toenails by now." _

_JJ stared at him for the longest time, as she really wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. Finally, she settled with, "How come you're so sure it's a he?" It earned her a blush from Reid and laughs from the others, which was what she had aimed for._

"_For as uncomfortable as you are with pregnancy," Morgan began, laughing as he did so, "you sure know an awful lot."_

"_How can it not freak you guys out?" Reid whipped his head around until he met every eye at the table, but no one seemed to agree with him._

_Rossi chuckled. "Does it freak you out?"_

"_Very much so." _

"_Aw, come on Reid," Prentiss ventured. "What? You don't want any baby geniuses one day?" _

_The thought alone must have taken him off guard because he paled considerably. "What? No. Do you?"_

"_Yes," she answered without hesitation. _

"_I know!" Garcia spoke up. "You and Prentiss should go at it. You'd make pretty _and _smart babies." _

_Reid looked ready to die, but Emily enjoyed the bait with enthusiasm. "Come on, Reid. What do you say? Let's make lots of baby geniuses," she joked, and then she caught Morgan's eye, who winked at her. "Morgan might take your spot if you're not careful."_

_Morgan smiled mischievously at the idea. "Your place or mine?" _

_"Oh, no sugar. He's all mine," Garcia said as she threw a playful arm around him. "Keep your hands off my man." _

"_What about me?" Rossi pouted. _

_JJ shook her head, but lightened the blow with a smile. "Sorry, Dave, but I think you're out of luck on this one." _

_And just like that, everyone irrupted into laughter. It was times like these when they were more than just colleges or just profilers, they were – to put it simply – family. An odd one, but still a family nonetheless._

"_Hey?" Garcia asked, looking around. "Where's the man of the house?" _

"_If you're talking about me," Hotch said, suddenly choosing that moment to join them, "I never want to hear you call me that again." _

"_You know you like it, Hotchman." _

_He decidedly chose to ignore her, but nobody missed the shadow of a smile gracing his lips. "Did I miss anything?"_

_Garcia's face brightened considerably at the opportunity. "Reid and Emily are going to make little baby geniuses." _

_Hotch gave them the look: b__rows raised, nose crinkled, and eyes questioning their sanity – all at the same time. "Do I want to know?" he asked, settling his gaze on Prentiss. _

_She shrugged. "What can I say? It's true. Apparently," she began, her tone playful, "Morgan and Rossi are in line too. They're conspiring against me. Please don't tell me you're in on it too." _

_He gave her another look – one that shouted, 'you can't be serious' - and she couldn't help but laugh at his stern expression. Another look yet again, and this time they knew it was time to push their light conversation aside and get down to business. "So, JJ. Please," Hotch began, "before I get brainwashed into whatever they have planned, proceed…" _

"_Gladly," she said. "__International Falls, Minnesota. Justin Hopkins was found dead and tied to a tree with the word greed written on his wrist." _

_A picture of man flashed up on the flat-TV screen, sending Garcia running for the door. "And that's my cue to leave. I'll be in the bat cave if needed. Don't hesitate to call, for the bat woman's only a phone call away." And with those words said, she fluttered out the door._

_Smirking, Rossi turned back to the group. "Any reference to the seven deadly sins?" _

"_Apparently. Christina Black was also found dead and tied to a tree, but with the word sloth written across her wrist. The last victim, Gregory Timber was found the same way, but with the __word gluttony on his wrist." _

"_The __seven deadly sins__, also known as the __Capital Vices__ or __Cardinal Sins__, is a classification of the most objectionable __vices__ which has been used since early __Christian__ times to educate and instruct followers concerning fallen man's tendency to __sin__," Reid recited from perfect memory. "It consists of lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy, and pride." _

_Hotch glanced down at the file. "__How did they find the bodies? From their locations on the map, they could never have been found." _

"_This is where it gets weird," JJ continued. "Our unsub sends the police a letter telling them where to find his victims. Also, there are pictures and videos of the tortures he commits on them, and he doesn't refer to them as their real name. Our latest victim was referred to as Beelzebub." _

_Reid didn't even blink. "__In 1589, __Peter Binsfeld__ paired each of the deadly sins with a __demon__, who tempted people by means of the associated sin. Beelzebub was paired with gluttony. The demon was a __deity__, worshipped in the __Philistine__ city of __Ekron__."_

"_So he tortures his victims," Rossi noted, "and records it."_

"_A sadist?" Morgan suggested._

"_Most likely," JJ agreed. "Each victim is tortured longer than the last. Look at the bruising." _

"_He's elevating," Emily whispered, slightly disturbed. _

_Morgan didn't look so sure. "I don't know. That seems awfully fast…"_

"_He must be keeping his victims longer," Hotch informed them. "JJ, do we know how long?" _

_Reid cut in before she could. "Look at the dates of the letters," he said, pointing to the copy of them. "The third victim was held for seven days, whereas the first two were not."_

"_Crime scene investigators said the first victim was killed fast. Seven stab wounds to the chest, but they said the second victim was held for at least seven hours." _

"_So he likes the number seven," Rossi cut in. _

"_OCD most likely, or some level of it," Reid added. "He's doing everything in seven's."_

_Hotch studied a close up picture of one of the victims. "Look at the way he tattoos the word to their wrist. It doesn't appear he has much experience with a tattoo machine."_

_Reid took the picture from him, studying it intently. "I don't think he used an electric tattoo machine. __The depths of the tattoos are strikingly uneven, penetrating different levels of the dermis with virtually every stroke."_

"_Maybe, Garcia could find something for us," Rossi suggested._

"_These men and women concern me," Emily spoke up. "All of them were exceptionally smart, extremely independent, and yet somehow, they fell into this guy's trap. Two were licensed to carry firearms – registered as sharp-shooters. And all three could bold well in a hand-to-hand combat."_

_Morgan just stared at her. "And?"_

"_What happened to them?"_

**7**

Morgan could see the anxiety spreading across Reid's face, the fear in his eyes, and the way his hands shook. Never in his life had he seen the young doctor so confused, insane. This wasn't the boy genius he knew. This wasn't Reid. But it wasn't Emily either. The strong independent woman who he joked and laughed with at the BAU was not standing before him now. No, this woman was clinging to Reid's side as if her life depended on it.

"Go away," Reid rasped out, his voice striking them like a whip. "Get the fuck away from us." He pushed Emily behind him and held the gun as steadily as he could. The kid was running on nothing but adrenaline and they knew it was only a mater of time before he collapsed from exhaustion.

"Reid, we're just trying to help," Morgan whispered.

It was strange to see _Reid_ protecting Emily, but it was even stranger to see her _letting _him. Morgan shot Hotch and a Rossi a knowing glance. 'Something was wrong' was written on all of their faces, but hadn't they expected it? They had all hoped on some level that everything would go back to the way things were once they had found them. But how could it? Emily and Reid had literally gone through hell. They knew what their unsub did to his victims, so how could they have even _hoped _that it would turn out differently when they knew it would not?

"Reid, listen to me. You both need doctors," Hotch told him, nearly begging. "We just want to help."

"No. I don't know you. Get the fuck away from us," he shouted, louder this time.

Emily whimpered then, and for one startling second, her legs collapsed from under her and she fell to the ground, hard. Now they could see her. Saying she was worse off than Reid was an understatement. The bruises and anxiety and fear matting her face told them that she had been the highlight of their unsub's sadistic ways, while Reid got the free ticket to watch it all happen.

"She's needs a doctor, Reid," Morgan soothed. It was a wonder how she was even conscious. "You do too."

Reid didn't disagree. "I'll take her."

"It's us, kid," Rossi spoke up. "The BAU. Garcia and JJ are back home waiting for you guys. We all miss you. We've been looking for you nonstop. JJ had her baby… did you know that? Named him Henry. He's your Godson, Reid."

Nothing but anger and hopelessness flashed across Reid's face. Hesitantly, he looked at Emily who was now slumped against his legs and fighting consciousness. "Please go…just go," Reid said, his voice cracking and his stance weakening. His head ached, drove him to insanity. For months, he had forgotten. For months, he had lost hope in everything he knew. For months, he worked so hard to just forget, but now those memories he had been forced to push away were desperately yearning to come back in a blinding rush of pain.

"Look, I'm putting down my gun. See?" Morgan placed it firmly on the floor and kicked it behind him. "I'm not going to hurt you." He took a brave step towards them, but Reid took a warming shot into the air, nearly taking off Morgan's head.

"Go," he shouted at them. "_Please. _Leave us alone."

"Reid, it's me. God, it's me. Your friend. Your buddy," Morgan nearly cried, begged.

"No! Get the fuck away! I don't remember you. You're going to hurt us. You're going to take her away. You're –"

"How can you not remember?" Morgan cut in. "I know you remember, Reid. God, just try. _Please."_

Reid shook his head violently. "No. I can't. He'll…he'll come back and take her away. He'll hurt her…"

"No, he can't hurt Emily or you," Morgan assured. "He can't hurt you two. Not anymore… I won't let him. You're safe."

"No," Reid sobbed. "It's not been seven months yet. He'll come back. He'll take her… I _can't _remember…"

"I know you remember, kid. I know you do."

"Morgan," Hotch warned.

Reid was crying now, hearting wrenching sobs. "I'll shoot you. I sweat I'll –"

"Eleven, eleven," Morgan burst out suddenly, remembering, and for a split second Reid faltered. Breathing heavily, Morgan took a brave step closer, but Reid gripped the gun even tighter. "Eleven," Morgan repeated. He could feel every eye on him as he managed to get within reaching distance of his beat up colleague – friend.

A flicker of recognition flashed across the young doctor's face. "Make a wish," Reid whispered before collapsing into Morgan's arms.

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**A/n: I'll explain eleven further in the next chapter and chapters to come. It'll be a part of the story. **

**Hope it was okay. ~Riley**

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	3. Chapter 3

**--Seven--**

**Chapter 3**

_Emily yawned as she stretched out in her seat. "What time is it?" she asked tiredly. They'd been stuck at the airport for almost five hours. Though it was a warm and sunny day in DC, the weather out in Minnesota wasn't looking too good. Now, she dreaded not bringing a raincoat or an umbrella, which she was surely going to need. _

"_Eleven eleven," Reid told her precisely. _

_Morgan gave them a cheeky grin. "Make a wish."_

_Emily gave him an incredulous look. "What?" _

"_You never heard that before?" The look she gave him told him she didn't, so he explained, "When you see eleven eleven on the clock you're suppose to make a wish." _

"_Why?"_

_Morgan shrugged. "I don't know. Why do you wish upon a star?" _

"_A star is different," she argued. "A clock is just so…random. Why would you want to wish on a clock?"_

"_That's not the point," he shot back, his tone considerably changing to annoyance._

_She straightened up from her position in her chair and gave him her infamous glare. If it wasn't so late she wouldn't have been arguing with him now, but because the lack of sleep was getting to her, she couldn't help but come off as snobbish. "That's the stupidest thing I have ever heard," she huffed. _

_Morgan's glare hardened, but before he could argue further, Reid jumped in, "__No one has been able to trace the origins of where it came from. For most people, it was just something they learned on the playground or from a random relative." Reid blinked at them. "Personally, I believe it was probably created sometime during the Mayan civilization." _

"_Why is that?" Morgan asked._

"_The Mayans were incredibly advanced and showed extraordinary skills in astronomy and math," Reid told them hurriedly. "Their 26,000 year-old calendar officially ends on December 21, 2012 at eleven eleven." _

_Emily gave him a pointed look. "That's creepy." _

"_Some people even believe that if they see that time on the clock then it is a wake up call or a reminder that they're a lightworker, which is a person who believes they have a mission in this lifetime to hold as much light for the planet as possible."_

"_You can't be serious."_

"_I am." _

_Emily sighed dramatically. "Who comes up with this stuff?" _

_Reid just shrugged. "People believe in all sorts of things that aren't true. My mom, for example, was a very strong believer in making a wish upon a star or at the time of eleven eleven. She believed it was good luck."_

"_Well," Morgan began, pointing to the watch on the wall, "hopefully luck will find us soon or we're never going to get out of here." _

_Reid grinned at him. "Then you better start wishing."_

"_I already did."_

_No one commented on the irony when – less than five minutes later - they got the okay to board the jet plane. _

_**7**_

There was almost five inches of snow on the ground by the time they got down the mountain. The storm had hit right on time and it was picking up speed with every second, making their journey twice as long as it should have been. To Morgan, it felt like the whole world was collapsing, drowning the Earth in flurry of white. He was riding with Emily and Reid in the back of the ambulance, and now he was regretting that decision more than ever.

Emily hadn't once made any recognition that he was even there or that she even knew what was happening around her. It was as if she had just stopped. Just like that. Turned off everything around her and wasn't sure how to turn back on. Saying it disconcerted him was an understatement. Reid on the other hand wouldn't _stop _watching him, and the fact that he was being over protective of Prentiss sent him into a world of hysterics.

They even had to coax Reid into letting the paramedics care to her, which was so unlike the boy genius, it startled him. The kid usually wasn't the forward one, the bossy one, the protective one, but he was doing all of that now…including holding Prentiss in a death grip. All of this was just a fraction of what they could have possibly had to have gone through.

"Hey, kid," Morgan said, just barely bringing the words to life. "Why don't you loosen your grip on her? She's not going anywhere."

Reid eyed him suspiciously before doing the exact opposite of what Morgan had told him. "Where are we going?" he asked then, his voice neglected of any emotions at all.

"The hospital, kid," Morgan told him. Then with a weak smile, he reached out and gripped Reid's hand. He knew better than to touch Emily. The last thing they needed was another breakdown from Reid. "You two are going to be okay. You hear me?"

Reid found his eyes unerringly fast, and what Morgan saw startled him. The normal warm, caring eyes were now phantom like and showed nothing but violence. "How can you be so sure?" Reid asked in a voice that was evident of only anger.

And for the first time since the abduction, Morgan really wasn't sure.

**7**

They sat in utter silence for the remainder of the trip, and for what felt like three days, they finally arrived at the hospital. It was a dinky looking place and from the outside it looked like it was hardly equipped to give stitches, but they didn't have much choice when nearly all the roads were closed off. But the drive hadn't been the worse part. No. That wasn't until a doctor tried to take Emily away to be cared for. It had taken two officers and two nurses, plus the help of Morgan to get Reid away from Emily. The kid only let go when a nurse stuck a needle into his arm, and Morgan just had to sit there and watch as Reid went limp. Now, nearly five hours later, he and the rest of the team had the torturous task of sitting in the waiting room.

The clock on the wall ticked off another second, another moment pass. At nearly two-thirty in the morning, they were the only ones there and Morgan was ready to throw a fit if a doctor didn't give them an update soon.

"I'm sure they're fine, Morgan," Rossi said, reading his mind.

Morgan hardly spared a glance. "I'll kill the bastard who did this to them. I swear I'll kill him."

"You won't," Hotch spoke up.

"I will."

Hotch sighed. "Then I won't let you. I'm not losing three members of my team in one case."

"You know what I don't understand," Rossi cut in before Morgan could argue further.

Morgan's glare hardened. "What?"

"If Reid had a gun…why didn't he shoot the unsub?"

Morgan and Hotch gave him a quizzical look as they each thought it over. The thought hadn't crossed either of their minds until now, and for once no one had an answer. Luckily for them, they were saved from having to answer it.

"SSA Hotchner?"

Every head shot in the direction of the sudden voice, and almost instantly they were out of their chairs and practically tackling the Doctor to the floor. He was a petite man with sandy blond hair and entrancing blue eyes, but his posture was stiff. If they weren't some of the world's best profilers they never would have assumed that something was wrong.

"Yes. That's me," Hotch spoke quickly.

"I'm Dr. Bentley," he introduced himself. "You're here for Dr. Spencer Reid and Agent Emily Prentiss. Is that correct?"

"Yes. How bad?" Hotch asked, cutting to the chase.

"Dr. Reid," he began, "hardly has any injuries at all. He wasn't well fed, but that's not an impossible task to fix. But honestly, other than a few burn marks he'll be okay…physically."

"Not mentally?"

"He's going to need counseling… both of them will." Dr. Bentley paused before hesitating. "There are scars on both of their wrist. I think they might have been self-inflicted. But what's odd, though, is the injuries were sewn back up and cared for."

"They wouldn't kill themselves," Morgan snapped. "They knew we were coming. They wouldn't have done that. It was the unsub."

"That's not part of his MO," Hotch argued softly. "If he cut their wrist there could have been a possibility that they'd die. He wouldn't have risked it. Besides, even if he did cut their wrists, there would be seven scars, not one."

Before Morgan could add to the debate, Rossi jumped in, "And Emily? How's she?"

Dr. Bentley sighed heavily. "She's lucky, I'll tell you that right up front. Her ribs are broken, her right wrist is fractured, she was hypothermic when you brought her in and that's not even half of her injuries," he told them softly.

"Will she be okay?" Morgan asked.

"We believe she's in an extreme state of Catatonia and under the stress of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder," Dr. Bentley told them, dancing around the question.

"So no," Morgan cut in, agitated. "She's not okay."

Dr. Bentley locked eyes with him. "She's lucky to be alive, Agent Morgan. Over time and with care, there's a chance that she will get better, but you have to remember, she's never going to forget this."

Rossi pressed his lips together in a fine line as he read the Doctor's face like an open book. "But you're not hopeful?"

"It's not my place to say," he told them honestly. "However, there is a chance with the right treatment and care. A small one, but a chance all the same."

Morgan's whole body tensed, not liking the idea in the slightest. "But you don't think she will."

Dr. Bentley gave them a weak smile before finally giving in. "Maybe a hospital wouldn't be such a bad place for her. It's just something to think about."

Rossi nodded, though he had no intentions of putting Prentiss in a hospital. That was the last place she needed to go. Sure, she went through hell, but she was strong, she was brave. He knew she would pull through this. Reid and her both. Just like they always did. "Thank you, Doctor."

"If there's anything I can do for you…" Dr. Bentley trailed off, letting the sentence die its own death.

Hotch closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll need both of their medical files. As hard as it is, we'll need to know everything that they went through. It'll help us catch this son of a bitch."

"Yes, of course."

"Can we see them?" Morgan asked hopefully.

Dr. Bentley hesitated before giving them a sad eye smile. "Spencer is still out from the medication we gave him. He should wake sometime in the morning."

"And Emily…can we see her?"

"You can, but I should warn you Agents, she's not…in touch with things."

Morgan's glare hardened. "Take us to her. Please."

Sighing, Dr. Bentley stepped aside. "Yes, of course. Right this way."

**7**

_Reid studied the picture of the tattooed wrist for the one thousandth's time in the past two hours. They'd been there for approximately six days and all they had to go off of was another victim who had been left for dead in the middle of the forest. This time the word lust had been written across their victim's wrist. _

"_You know what I don't understand," Emily began, "is why does he send us a letter of where the bodies are found?"_

"_He wants them to be found," Rossi informed her. _

"_Yeah, I know that, but what's the point? Why does this guy want us to find them, and why can't he refer to them as their real name? Like, look…" she said, pointing to a letter, "he refers to our last victim as Asmodeus."_

_Reid didn't even glance up from the picture he was studying. "Asmodeus is a king of demons mostly known from the __deuterocanonical_ _Book of Tobit__. He is also referred to as one of the seven princes of hell." There was a beat of silence before his head snapped up as a thought crossed his mind. "I think our unsub thinks our victim's are demons." _

_Morgan eyed him suscpiously. "What?" _

"_He thinks they're demons," Reid struggled to explain. "Our unsub referred to our first victim as Mammon, which is __used to describe material __wealth__ or __greed__, most often __personified__ as a __deity__. The second victim was referred to as Belphegor, who is a demon that helps people make discoveries. Our unsub referred to the third victim as Beelzebub. He's referring to the victim's as the demon Peter Binsfeld gave each seven deadly sin in 1589." _

_Dawning on him, Hotch let out an exasperated sigh. "Reid's right. Our unsub thinks he's killing the demon, not the person itself." _

"_Yeah, but that still doesn't really help," Morgan argued. "By now he's probably searching for his next sinner, and __all we know is that he thinks he is killing demons." _

"_Well, he's searching for either pride, wrath, or envy." _

"_Reid," Emily huffed, "do you realize how common those sins are? It could be anyone." _

_Morgan's jaw tightened, fighting the urge to snap at the young Doctor. The case was driving him to insanity and Reid's constant babbling was not helping "Yeah, the next victim will probably already be dead by the time we can even figure out who our unsub has taken."_

"_Not quite," Reid hesitated to explain. "I've been looking at the dates on the letters and look at them." He showed them to everybody, but when everyone just continued to stare, Reid let out a frustrated sigh. "The letters between the first victim and the second victim were sent seven hours apart. Our unsub didn't send the letter for the next victim until seven days had passed by. The letter for the third victim was seven weeks later. Can't you see?" _

_Everyone shook their heads. A few muttered, "No."_

"_The next victim will be held for seven months. He's holding them longer each time…probably because he thinks that certain 'demons' take longer to get rid of than others." _

"_Seven months?" Rossi asked in disbelief. "We can't wait that long. The case will go cold by then if we don't find something soon." _

_Reid just blinked. "At least we know our victim isn't going to die right now." _

"_He's right. This only means we're going to have to work harder. If we don't, we'll never catch this guy," Hotch stated, and just like that Reid returned to staring at the picture of the tattooed wrists. "Emily, Morgan, and Reid interview the families one more time. Find out everything you can about –"_

"_Actually, Hotch," Reid cut in, earning himself an infamous glare from his boss._

"_Yeah?" Hotch asked, annoyance creeping into the undertone of his voice. _

"…_can I do something else?" Reid stuttered._

_Hotch gave him an incredulous look. "What?" _

"_I've been studying the tattoos our unsub brands on his victims. I think he might be hand-tapping the ink into the skin using a sharpened stick or animal bone. If he were using an electric tattoo-machine, the tattoos __would be more uniform, conforming to the length and gauge of the needle."_

"_And?" _

"_If he does it the way I think he's doing it, then the process can take hours and can be extremely painful. And I've been thinking…our unsub probably works somewhere…"_

_Morgan just raised an eyebrow at him, questioning his sanity. "And you think he owns a tattoo shop?"_

"_Well, no…not exactly, but I was thinking there are probably a lot of people who want a tribal tattoo. I had Garcia pull up a list of people who have bought this sort of equipment needed in the last year or so in this given area." _

"_Or he just doesn't know how to work the tattoo machine," Morgan argued. _

"_It's a start," Hotch stated eventually, though he didn't sound very sure. _

"_You can't be serious." Morgan whipped his head around, meeting the gaze of everyone in the room. "This guy isn't going to be stupid enough to own a tattoo shop –"_

"_Well, he's getting his ink somewhere," Reid pressed lightly. "He would need a lot of ink." _

_Emily gave him a weak smile. "I'll go with you Reid," she offered._

"_Fine," Hotch gave in. "You two can go check it out." _

"_It's a waste of our time," Morgan muttered. "That's what it is." _

_Hotch decidedly chose to ignore that comment. "Rossi go with Morgan and interview the families, I'll stay here and see what else I can find. Meet back here at three. That's in four hours, which should be enough time. Okay?" _

_Morgan glanced at his watch and that smug smile soon returned to his lips. "Maybe it's your lucky day, Reid. Look what time it is." _

"_Eleven eleven." Despite himself, Reid couldn't help but smile. "Make a wish." _

"_Oh, please," Emily scoffed. "Before I gag, let's go. We have ink to investigate." _

_Morgan's grin grew wider. "Okay, well, you kids go do that," he called jokingly after them, "and call if you get into any trouble."_

_Emily rolled her eyes, but lightened the blow with a genuine smile. "I rather wish on a clock than call you for help," she shot back over her shoulder before disappearing out the door._

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**A/n: If you've never heard of the eleven eleven or the lightworkers thing...I swear I didn't make it up. haha. Many people have told me about it before, but now that I think about it, it is rather silly. Hope this update was okay. ~Riley**

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	4. Chapter 4

**I'm soooooo I was totally going to update Tuesday, but for reasons unknown to me it wouldn't log me onto my screen name. I kept getting this error message which was really making me mad. It has been like that for the last three days now. Thankfully it works now, so I'm very sorry for the delay. **

**Thanks again for everyone who reviewed. It keeps me writing and in a good mood, so thanks. =) **

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**--Seven--**

**Chapter 4**

_The sun was at its highest peak as a black SUV pulled up the circular cobblestone driveway. It was one of those old farmhouses with white and black shutters and was nearly an exact carbon copy of its nearest neighbor, which was a mile down the road. With lush and dense green trees and colorful flowers, the landscape offered nothing but the feeling of total seclusion. _

"_Beautiful house," Emily muttered under her breath as she turned off the ignition. The car took one last breath before dying softly. _

_Reid pressed his lips together in a fine line as he consulted the address, comparing it against the house number. This was the third house on the list Garcia had managed to pull for them and so far, they had made no progress whatsoever. According to the clientele list, someone by the name of Gregory Mills, at this address, had recently purchased an excess supply of ink and just happened to have the same equipment needed to make an old tribal tattoo. But so had the last three men they interviewed, which had been an utter waste of their time. Technically, Reid knew that this was a long shot, but he wanted nothing more than to prove Morgan wrong. _

"_You coming?" Reid shook his head, snapping back into reality at her voice. She was poking her head back in the car and glancing at him with a look of concern. He hadn't even realized she had gotten out. When he didn't answer, she gave him a pointed look and asked, "You okay?" _

"_Maybe Morgan was right," Reid huffed. "This is probably just a waste of our time."_

"_Hey, don't be so hard on yourself," she said, giving him a smile that could brighten anyone's day. "It was a good idea." _

"_But not a great one?"_

_She gave him an amused grin before nodding her head towards the house. "Come on." _

_They stepped from the car and as they cautiously surveyed the property, they made their way across the stone path, which led to the front door patio. The unscheduled delay meant that they had gotten there earlier than anticipated. The last three interviews had gone surprisingly fast and altogether they had consisted just under two hours. However, the drive to this house had taken them another hour, so it was now going on two pm. If Hotch was excepting them back at three, there was no way in hell that they were going to make it back in time. _

_Emily pressed the doorbell with her thumb, and they listened as the chimes strained out an unfamiliar tune. Somewhere inside the house, a television set was playing loudly, tuned to some action movie or something of that nature. A minute or so passed by and yet no one answered. She was just about to ring again, when the door opened by barely a crack…_

_**7**_

Morgan and Hotch entered the room Emily was staying in and closed the door behind them softly. Rossi stayed out, saying he'd give JJ and Garcia a call to inform them on the latest events. In reality, though, the two profilers knew that the older man wasn't ready to see Emily in a mental state that could possibly be the death of the Prentiss they knew.

"Hey, girl," Morgan said softly at the sight of her sitting up in bed with her eyes wide open. It wasn't a lie to say she looked worse than when they found her. Now that the dirt and filth had been washed from her body, the numerous bruises and scars stood out against her unnaturally pale skin. She was thin too; anorexic thin.

Inhaling sharply, Morgan took the seat to the right of her and gripped her hand. If she knew they were there, she gave no outward indication of it.

"You're going to be okay," Hotch spoke up, barely bringing the words to life.

Morgan couldn't remember a time where he had seen Hotch so sentimental, and though the older man stood back, Morgan knew Hotch was desperately trying to keep his emotions at bay. It was then that Morgan's eye caught the sight of the black marking on her right wrist. _Pride_, it said in barely legible handwriting. The letters were shrewd, large, and horribly uneven. It was different than the others... almost as if the unsub had difficulty writing it.

"She put up a fight," Hotch remarked upon seeing the tattoo.

Morgan squeezed her hand, but still, she registered nothing. "I know what it's like," he blurted out suddenly. If it only took a confession on his part then perhaps she would open up as well. He'd do anything to get her back. "To have to leave a part of yourself behind and then just forget. That's what you have to do in order to get through something horrible… like you went through. I know, Em. I've been there." He was vaguely aware of Hotch leaving the room, but he hardly made a note of it. Instead, unbidden images from when he was a kid flooded his mind. "But I learned that is not the way to do things. You've gotta open up, let others in. I know it's hard, but you got to try. It _will _help."

Sighing softly, he ran a hand through her hair, which was now freshly shampooed. A nurse must have given her a bath, he thought. She smelt good, but it wasn't the same smell he had associated her with and this hurt his emotional well-being. "Whatever you're hiding yourself from Em, let me help. Please. Let me be there for you like you guys were there for me in Chicago. I know it's hard and I wish I could tell you that everything will be okay tomorrow, but it's not going to be. Tomorrow it'll hurt. You won't forget. You'll _never_ forget what happened to you and Reid, but you can move passed it. Life goes on. Eventually, it_ will_ get better."

When she still refused to meet his gaze, only continued to stare out with hopelessness, he felt a stab of pain to his chest. Never had he seen her look so dejected, so lost. Bruises covered her body, she was freakishly pale, and dark circles were almost engraved around her eyes. All of this made him wonder if she would ever truly recover. But then something inside him snapped.

She was alive. She fought. Because of her there wouldn't be a sixth or seventh victim.

"Emily," he said sternly. He caught her wrist in his hand and held her tattoo up to her face, forcing herself to look at it. "This was supposed to be your death, Prentiss, but you lived. You and Reid are alive." She was trembling now, he could feel her shaking in his arms, but this reaction only caused him to pull her closer. "I know you're in there Emily. I know you're there. You have to stop hiding. It's time to come back. We'll fight this together. You hear me? We'll fight –"

The sudden cry she let out caused him to stop abruptly. Never had he heard such an ear-piecing, terrified cry before. And coming from Emily, it only made it a thousand times worse. Morgan shut his eyes and fought back tears. He hated himself for scaring her, hated himself for pushing her. "Okay, I'm sorry. Shhhh," he soothed as he pulled her into a giant bear hug, desperately trying to calm her down before a nurse heard and ushered him away.

It wasn't long before she calmed down and almost instantly she morphed back into that emotionless state again. Morgan almost preferred her crying. At least that was reaction. This... this was just nothing. "I got you something," he told her softly, suddenly. When she didn't move or flinch, he held up the soft animal in front of her face. It was a white teddy bear and it had warm caring eyes, ones you could trust.

"I found it in the gift shop downstairs…I thought you might like it," he whispered. "My dad got me one when I was in the hospital as a kid. It helped a lot."

And then she did the most remarkable thing. She reached out and took the stuffed bear from him and then brought her slim arms around his neck, just like the way a little girl would hug her doll. Her touch was feather light and soft. And though the stuff bear was pressed up between him, he could still feel her pounding heart starting to return to a normal pace. Suddenly he realized how much he missed her, how much he truly longed to touch and laugh with her again. When she first joined the team, perhaps if they had played their cards a little differently, something could have happened between them. But they knew the risks, the unspoken rules.

He held her close under the beams of silver moonlight, afraid to let go. He hadn't known before, he hadn't fully understood, just how much his existence depended on hers. Now that she was safe, he was convinced that he'd wake up in the morning to find an empty bed. Her essence was that fragile in his mind, that vulnerable. With one misplaced breath, she would disappear off the face of the earth, and he would be left with nothing. And if that happened, he would die. After all, you couldn't live for very long without a heart.

"Oh, Emily," he whispered reverently. He kissed the top of her head and a single tear escaped from the corner of his eye. And although it wasn't yet a miracle, no sudden awakening… it was, at least, an indication that a light had been switched on somewhere inside. And for the first time in months, he dared to let himself believe that everything was going to be okay.

**7**

_Emily leaned back as she regarded the pair of green eyes peeking out from behind the door. They belonged to a man with sandy blond hair and was perhaps no more than thirty-five. __The fragrant aroma of something delicious baking in the oven wafted out from the kitchen. It made her stomach growl appreciatively, just then realizing that she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast that __morning._

"_Hi, Mr. Mills?" Emily asked._

"_Yeah?" Came the hesitant voice on the other side._

_She flashed him her badge and she couldn't help but notice how his eyes glowed in awe. "We're with the FBI. I'm Agent Prentiss and this is Agent Reid." _

_Mills hesitated before looking causally over his shoulder. "May I ask what this is about?_

"_Nothing to be concerned about, I assure you," Reid told him. "We're just following up on a routine background investigation." _

_He gave them a sadistic smile then, one that shouted 'I have a secret'. Then, with great __enthusiasm__, he pushed the door open for them all the way. "I'm sorry. I've appeared to have forgotten my manners. Would you like to come in?" _

_They hesitated, both feeling oddly out of place in this man's home. He was a tall man; perhaps standing just over six feet tall and despite his warm attitude, there was something about him that just seemed off. Swallowing hard, Emily forced herself to find her voice. "Yes. May we?" _

"_Sure. Right this way," he said, stepping aside to let them in. "I hope you don't mind. I'm baking cookies for my niece's birthday. Let me go turn the oven off. Make yourself at home." _

_They nodded as they crossed over to the living room, which was in the opposite room Mills had disappeared into. Sighing, Emily stood and walked towards a large built-in bookcase, which took up an entire wall. Perusing the titles, she absently scanned over them. Besides the Bible, she hardly recognized a single novel. Many had to do with demons, others had the words heaven and hell written across their spine, but it was the last book that had her heart beating erratically. _

"_Reid," she hissed out. _

_Reid's eyes widened as he touched the spine of the leather-bound book. "__Binsfeld's Classification of Demons__," he whispered, fear evident in his voice. "Emily… you don't think?" _

_Then suddenly everything seemed off, out of place, just too perfect. __The room itself was brightly lit and tastefully furnished. Framed religious artwork lined the walls, a bowl of goldfish sat on a nearby table, and not a spec of dust was insight. It was too perfect, too neat. Even the family photographs displayed along the shelves were too posed, too one-dimensional, and none of which included Gregory Mills or the niece he had mentioned. However, despite all this, it was the famous picture hanging over the fireplace that confirmed their fears._

"The Seven Deadly Sins and the Four Last Things, _painted by __Hieronymus Bosch__. The four small circles on the outside represent death, judgment, hell, and glory," Reid whispered. "The large circle is where the seven deadly sins are depicted. The center is said to represent the eye of God." _

"_We've got to call Hotch," Emily muttered, pulling out her cell. _

"_I'm sorry I kept you waiting." Unintentionally and hating themselves for doing it, they both jumped at the sudden voice. For a moment, the words they knew so well were lost and before they even had a chance to recover, Mills spoke up, "Is there something wrong?" He eyed them suspiciously before glancing over at Emily who was now holding her cell. _

"_No," she spoke quickly, her compartmentalizing skills finally kicking into gear. "My boss called. I was just going to return his call." _

"_Oh." _

"_Eh," Reid cut in quickly, "I'm sorry, but I…eh…really could use the rest room…"_

_She gave him an incredulous look. She knew exactly what he was doing, but it didn't mean she had to like the idea. But if their unsub knew that they were catching on to him, he showed no outward indication of it. So sighing inwardly, she gave Mills a soft smile. _

"_Of course," Mills said, returning her gesture. "Right this way." _

_Reid gave her a pointed look before disappearing down the hall with their unsub. Once out of sight and figuring that Morgan and Rossi were closer than Hotch, she quickly speed-dialed Morgan's number. She cursed under her breath when the phone rang a customary five times before his automated voice mail recording kicked in. __More than frustrated, she hung up __and started to punch in the numbers for Rossi, but before she could hit send, a fiery sensation burned through her temples. By the time she realized what was happening, Gregory Mills was looming over her with a baseball bat in his hands._

_The savage blow had knocked her completely off of her feet and unprepared for the brutal attack, she hit the ground hard. She had tried to block the fall with her hands, but by doing so, her cell phone slipped from her fingers and skidded wildly across the floor before disappearing underneath the sofa. Her ears were ringing, her head was pounding, and her vision kept going in and out of focus. The only thing that seemed to register in her brain was the warm, sticky flow of blood seeping down her forehead. _

"_I had dream that'd you come. He told me that demons were on their way," Mills spoke, his voice frighteningly deeper and ominous than before. "He told me that demons were coming to stop me." _

_She groaned slightly as she tried to pinpoint exactly where he was, but her mind couldn't seem to pick out one thing from another. Even Mills voice seemed so far away, so utterly far. The darkness was overtaking her. She could feel herself slipping away, so before it could, she fought it back. Almost immediately, a blinding rush of pain shot up her spine and she was shrewdly brought back to reality. Suddenly, the realization of situation at hand was finally beginning to take its toll on her. Instinctively, she began crawling towards the door. But she only made it two feet before Mills pulled her back to him, and this time when he hit her over the head, she lost consciousness completely._


	5. Chapter 5

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Thanks again for your wonderful reviews. I very much enjoy them and I appreciate those who took there time to respond. Oh, and this weekend I was going to go back over all the chapters and check for spelling/grammar mistakes I missed.

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**--Seven--**

**Chapter 5**

_Rossi eyed Morgan suspiciously as they got back in the car. "What are you doing?" _

"_Oh, Em called a couple of minutes ago, but we were talking with the parents still," Morgan answered as he speed dialed Emily's number. When it rang a customary five times before her voice mail recording picked-up, Morgan let out an exaggerated sigh of frustration. "You know what really pisses me off?" _

_Rossi just raised an eyebrow. "What?" _

"_When someone calls you, so then you call them _right _back and they don't pick up," Morgan huffed as he glanced through his missed calls. "She called me less than five minutes ago. It's so annoying. Shouldn't she be expecting me to return her call?"_

"_I'm sure she just got caught up with something." Rossi paused before adding, "You could always try Reid."_

_Morgan waved him off. "No. If it's really that important, she'll call back." _

**7**

_Reid awoke to an excruciating headache and a darkness so dark, it swallowed him whole. He blinked several times in an attempt to clear his sight, but still he saw nothing back blackness. __Grunting and biting back moans, he tried to force himself up, but found that he couldn't. He was sitting up, bound to some sort of chair, a__nd once he established that fact, his sense of feeling returned in a rush, harsh and unexpected agony._

_Pain._

_At that moment all he felt was pain and he had to fight the urge to cry out. It shot through him with every shaky breath, every inch he moved. The blood and sweat that ran from his pores dripped into the numerous cuts setting his entire skin on fire. He stiffened in fear, wanting nothing more than to break free from the hell he was being subjected to. __Suddenly, the situation at hand was an all too familiar one, one he had been so desperately trying to forget. It haunted him, sent him into a state of panic. Every night he would return to that graveyard with Tobias. Every night he would relive that torturous ordeal, but never had it felt so real. Not like this, so he prayed, hoped that it was a just a nightmare and not a reality._

_But still, he did not wake. _

_He had no idea how much time had passed before he finally calmed down. It could have been hours or mere minutes until he finally accepted the fact that he wasn't where he should be. Panic threatened to overwhelm his sanity as his head spun out of control. But he could fight this. If he could just keep on breathing, everything would turn out alright. If he kept on fighting, he would survive. The darkness threatening to swallow him whole would be kept at a distance if he didn't let go of that little ounce of hope. After all, victory came to those who persisted._

_But he was tired. So utterly tired. Every ounce of energy and strength he possessed had been spent in favor of survival. He was exhausted, but determined nonetheless to push his logical mind past the point of suffering a person could bear. He could fight this. They would find him. But how could they find him when he didn't even know where he was?_

_Then, suddenly, he remembered._

_Emily. _

_Where was she? Was she okay? _

_He had been deliberately avoiding the shards of memories of how he had ended up in his current situation. He wanted to deal with them when he was somewhere familiar, like his apartment or, better yet, the BAU. At least some place and some time when he was less tied up. However, with every passing minute, with every torn breath that passed through his raw and itchy throat, his chances of keeping those memories at bay diminished. _

_And that's when he knew…the unsub was there in the room with him. Reid could hear him as he __actively listened to the quiet. He had learned at a very early age that absolute quiet was only a myth. There was always something there, somewhere, struggling to make its presence known. Then suddenly, a light was flicked on and Gregory Mills stepped forward in all his sadistic glory. _

"_When the demon attaches to your soul," Mills spoke in a deep-set voice, which spread throughout the room, "it eats it. Every last bit until there is nothing left but the demon itself." _

_Reid blinked, desperately trying to clear the blindness that had overcome him. _"_I'm…I'm not a demon," he rasped out, hardly recognizing his voice. "You've got the wrong person." _

"_Ah," Mills said, dragging out the syllable longer than necessary. "I believe at one point you weren't, but there's a demon inside of you now. Hopefully it hasn't eaten your whole soul yet…maybe then you won't die. God sent you here for a reason and I will kill that Demon. I can promise you that."_

_Reid frantically searched the room, hoping to find some sort of clue of his possible location, but he was only met by darkness. "Where's Emily? The one…the one I came with? What have you done with her?" _

"_She's somewhere…she's nowhere. Does it really matter?" Mills gave him a sadistic smile then. "Don't worry my friend, she'll have her turn too. I just have to figure out who you are before I move onto that selfish whore." _

"_What…what do you mean?" _

"_Lucifer or Amon… I haven't figured out yet." _

"_Why not Leviathan?" Reid asked, curious why Mills had pegged him for either wrath or pride, but not envy. _

_Mills eyes widen considerably, obviously impressed. "__In the 6th Century, Pope St Gregory was extremely concerned with the state of spiritual contamination of his time. In very simple language, he brought home a clear message that indeed man was sinful and should have to find salvation in God. To do this, sin must be identified and revealed in order to defeat or to contain it."_

"_He split them into two groups," Reid added, anything to put off the torture that was sure to come. "Spiritual sins and corporal sins." _

_Mills huffed, but there was a fire burning in his eyes, which made Reid realize that there might just be a way to save his life. _

_"What could you possibly know about the seven deadly sins?" Mills asked, his tone bordering on annoyance and frustration._

_Reid hesitated, but only for a moment. He knew this. He knew this. He could recite it with his eyes closed, but it had been so long ago. Letting out a shaky breath, he closed his eyes until he could see the words as if the book itself was right in front of him. "__The three spiritual sins consist of wrath, envy, and pride. These are sins that affect the soul directly. A perfectly healthy body individual may harbor these sins. It has to do with a person's views on life and relationship with others," Reid explained, reciting it as best he could. "The corporal sins, are those sins which poison the body. Sloth, gluttony, greed, and lust. They get the better of otherwise peace loving, humble persons, who are unable to control their basic passions and desires for the flesh, gold, and even food."_

_Mills __eyed him suspiciously. "You trying to trick me, Boy?" _

"_No. No!" Reid almost cried out, begged. "Please. You have the wrong person."_

"_The demon will be out of you soon, Son. You don't have to worry anymore." Mills stood then and disappeared into the shadows before returning with a cigar in hand. He twirled it between his fingers as he glanced back up at Reid, who couldn't help but notice the eerie reminiscence of light in Mills's eyes. _

"_Please…I'm not a demon," Reid pressed, eyes widening in fear as Mills lit the cigar. _

_Mills eyed him with cold, monster like eyes as he gripped Reid's wrist and held the cigar above his skin. "If you're not a demon, Boy, then prove it." _

_Reid swallowed hard, desperately searching for an answer. Suddenly, his mind caught a glimpse of the conversation he had with Morgan and Prentiss at the airport not more than six days ago. "I'm…I'm a lightworker." _

"_A what?" _

"_A lightworker," Reid __declared passionately, trembling as he summoned false strength and courage into his voice, so as to convince Mills of his claim. "A person who is dedicated to world peace, Heaven on Earth, and healing. We volunteer, before birth, to help the population heal from the effects of fear. Without us, humanity would lose its way into darkness. "_

"_Lies!" Mills hissed out, but he did not drop the cigar to burn him yet. _

"_No. I'm not lying," Reid pleaded. "We work together in hopes to build a __peaceful and united planet, a new earth, built upon the foundations of love, compassion and wisdom. Often, if you see eleven eleven __on the clock it is wake up call or a reminder that you're a lightworker." _

_Mills was definitely listening now, considering. Reid could tell by the way his breathing had deepened and from the slight flair of his nostrils. It was obvious that Mills wasn't use to being challenged by one of his chosen sacrifices, let alone someone younger than him. But still Mills looked unsure._

_Reid inhaled sharply."We are each here for a specific purpose."_

"_And what's yours?" _

"_I…I don't know. Not yet." There was a beat of silence before Reid finished his speech off with a quote from the bible. "__Let the sinners be consumed out of the earth, and let the wicked be no more. Bless thou the Lord, O my soul. Praise ye the Lord." _

_Something flashed across Mills eyes then, something Reid couldn't quite place. However, as quickly as __it came, it went and Reid knew he went too far. So __h__e prepared himself, both physically and mentally, for what was to come next. And Mills didn't disappoint. The cigar was pressed into his skin then, burning his flesh and Reid had to fight back a cry. He attempted to pull his hand away, but Mills was stronger than he appeared and Reid couldn't pull his hand from the unsub's grasp, no matter how hard he tried. __Mills burned another whole into his skin, a matching set, and he did this until there were seven identical marks. _

"_You are not a lightworker," Mills sneered, eyes darting wildly back and forth, as he brought his face to hover directly over Reid's. _

"_No. Please…."_

"_I'll find the demon inside of you. Then I'll mark you. It'll take seven months to get rid of this one, but I'll get rid of it. You can be sure of that, Boy." _

_Mills whipped something out of his pocket then, but even in the dimly lit light Reid already knew what it was. The tiny syringe was enough to have him fighting against his restraints, fighting to keep that drug away. For months, those drugs consumed him. For months, those drugs ate his souls until he was nothing but a shell waiting to break. But he survived. His friends pulled him out. __However, seeing that needle now was enough to send him into a world of hysterics. _

"_No. Please. Don't…no." He was crying now. Heart wrenching sobs, but Mills wouldn't listen, nor did he seem to care. _

"_It'll all be over soon," Mill soothed, and almost instantly Reid succumbed to that black abyss. _

_**7**_

Reid awoke with a start, panting and sweaty. Five months ago he might have screamed, might have cried out in the night, but he learned to keep silent, to not make a noise. For the last couple of months he had programmed himself to not make a sound. Especially in the night, where there was a chance of waking Mills.

But Mills wasn't here. He was gone. Wandered off somewhere into the forest. And despite the fact that Reid knew Mills couldn't hurt him now, it still took him a couple of minutes to calm himself down. Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, Reid pulled the IV out of his arm and switched off the monitor, so the steady flatline wouldn't wake Rossi, who was sleeping in an almost impossible position in the chair across from him. Barefooted and wearing only a hospital nightgown, he headed towards door and out into the hallway. The air was cooler out there and it bathed him, calmed him. Something he hadn't felt in over five months.

He walked blindly down the various halls, avioding passing nurses and doctors until he found the room he was looking for.

A283.

That was the room she was in. He was sure of it. After all, he heard Hotch and Rossi talking while he pretended to sleep.

The clock on the wall read seven in the morning.

Go figure.

Reid slowly shut the door behind him before making his way quietly to the side of her bed. Morgan was sleeping in a chair next to her and he had his head on her stomach. For a moment, something inside of him snapped and Reid had the sudden urge to rip the guy's head off, but before he could, he quickly reminded himself that it was _Morgan, _someone he could trust. A friend. His buddy, as Morgan had put it a few hours ago.

"Emily," Reid whispered, taking the seat across from her.

She didn't turn to look at him, only held some stupid stuffed bear in a death grip. He wondered if Morgan had given it to her. Why he'd give her a child's toy he couldn't be sure, and the idea of it made his stomach twist and turn. She didn't need some stupid bear. What she needed was him.

And only him.

"Emily," he said softly, so not to disturb or frighten her. "You don't need that."

He reached out to take it away, but she pulled it closer to her until she was suffocating it against her chest. The reaction alone was enough to make him pause, to stop him in his tracks. For the last couple of months the only reaction he'd got from her was… nothing. It was as if one day Mills had sewn her lips shut without actually doing it.

"You're going to be okay," Reid whispered as he pried her hand away from that stupid stuff animal. "I promise you that."

She turned her head the slightest then, but still her eyes were glazed over, showing a nothingness he knew all to well. Slowly, her eyes traveled back to Morgan, who was still sound asleep and snoring softly. For a moment, Reid had to swallow the jealousy that overcame him. But he quickly pushed that thought aside as he remembered another burning fact.

"When seven months is up," Reid told her sadly, softly, "everything will go back to normal. You'll see." Letting a few tears drop from his eyes, he laid his head on her stomach next to Morgan's head and breathed in the scent of her. "In five weeks, you'll be free again."

* * *

**Okay, so that whole Lightworkers thing description, yada-yada-yada, of what they are I got off of youtube. Don't know how accurate the information is. They could have completely made it up, but I figured as long as it sounds legit... it'd fit. So hopefully I made it sound like that. If not, hey, I tried. Hope it was okay. ~Riley**

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	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks to those who reviewed, I very much appericate it and it keeps me writing. **

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**--Seven--**

**Chapter 6**

The ride from the hospital to the airport had been uneventful, and since neither Reid nor Emily took too well with strangers anymore, Morgan was thanking God that they had their private jet waiting for them. Thirty-five thousand feet in the air was not the time or place to have a mental breakdown and so far, Emily had four in the last two days. Reid already held the award winning position of six, and if Rossi didn't get away from Emily soon, they'd be dealing with number seven. So shooting Rossi a knowing glance, Morgan pressed his lips in a fine line and Rossi stepped back.

Reid untensed visibly.

Sighing softly, Morgan made his way up the stairs and onto to the plane. It was difficult for all of them to board the jet, knowing that Mills was still out there, that Emily and Reid weren't themselves, but it wasn't their choice. They had spent almost six months studying, breathing in this case. In Strauss's opinion, it had been six months too long, but not even a bullet could have stopped them from leaving their friends behind. The worst aspect of the whole thing, though, was knowing that a part of Emily and Reid were still there with _him_, still a hostage. Morgan's greatest fear was that he would never get them back completely, not one hundred percent. And if that happened, the bastard would have won, because it was the next best thing to killing them.

And in some ways, it was worse.

It didn't come as surprise when Reid sat next to Emily at the plane desk. Morgan chose the window seat opposite from her, Hotch took the seat next to him, and Rossi took the extra seat by the couch. It was as if they were subconsciously boxing her in, protecting her. If she cared, she took no notice of it or them. She just sat there, hugging that stupid bear he had gotten her.

"Where are we going?" Reid asked, and for the first time since they found him, he sounded like his normal-self.

"Home, Kid," Rossi told him.

But that calm in Reid's voice didn't last for long. It only took one glance at Emily for Reid to snap at Morgan...again. "What'd you say to her?" Reid sent him a piercing glare.

Morgan's eyes grew wide, seriously caught off guard by the question. "What do you mean?"

"What did you say to her?" he repeated, his tone changing to an accusing one. Reid glanced at Emily who was now staring at her tattooed wrist. "She has never done that before. Never. She doesn't like to look at it, but now she won't stop."

"I…I just told her the truth," Morgan told him, just barely forcing the words out through gritted teeth. He wasn't use to Reid sticking up to him, wasn't use to Reid picking a fight, yet the boy genius was doing it now and it was sending him into a world of hysterics.

Reid's glare hardened. "There is no truth."

"You don't have one, Reid," Hotch noted, slowly turning the conversation down a path none of them really wanted to go down, but had to all the same.

Reid kept his mouth shut at that. Instead, his eyes narrowed suspiciously before crisscrossing his arms across his chest. "And your point is?" Reid asked, fighting vengeance.

"Why would our unsub label her as a sin and not you?" Hotch asked softly. "Did you say something to him that got you out of it?"

"Stop it."

The conversation was clearly uncomfortable for the young genius, but Hotch didn't falter. "It's not your fault, Reid. You did not do anything to cause her pain. Mills did that tattoo. Not you. You did nothing to hurt Emily. Only Mills did. This is not your fault."

"But it is..."

"No," Morgan jumped in, "it's not."

"But you don't understand," Reid almost cried.

Rossi gave them a sad-eye smile. "They're right Reid. It isn't your fault, and we will keep telling you that until you believe it."

Emily made an indignant noise then and almost instantly the conversation died its own death. They hadn't meant to startle her, upset her, but somewhere in the mist of their conversation, they had. Sighing heavily, Morgan shot both Reid and Hotch a glare before turning his full attention back to Emily, who was now hunched over and examining something in her lap.

"Hey, Em… you okay?" Morgan asked her. When she didn't look up to catch his gaze, he nudged her foot from under the table.

Rossi, who could see her from the position he sat, asked, "Reid…what has she got?"

Reid glanced at her, but the task of reading his face had never been so difficult in their lives. Normally, the boy genius was like an open book, but now he kept his gaze straight and – for whatever reasons – remained silent. His answer was no more than a slight shrug.

"Emily," Hotch tried, his voice stern, but still they got nothing from her. She just sat there, tensed and uncooperative. It wasn't until her shoulders started shaking did they realize that she was indeed crying.

"Oh, Em," Morgan whispered. "Don't cry. It'll be okay."

Rossi's eyes narrowed quickly before he stood up from his position on the couch. "Emily," he screamed as if she were a small child, surprising all of them, including her. "Stop it."

She did. Just like that. Then, almost timidly, she put the bear she had been holding in her lap firmly on the table. It was the first time Morgan had seen her let go of it in two days.

"Emily?" Rossi asked, a frown already settling into place at the sight of it.

"What's wrong, Rossi?" Hotch asked, evidently confused at the older man's outburst.

Rossi simply took and shoved the stuffed animal into Hotch's arms before turning back to Emily. "Emily let me see your hands."

They'd all seen her flight or fight response before, but never had it been directed at any of them. Perceiving a potential threat and acting on instinct alone, she threw her body against Reid, pushing him out of his seat before making a run for it. Reid fell hard on the ground, and he too seemed momentarily caught off guard, surprised by her sudden attack. However, before any of them could catch her, she flung herself onto the corner of the couch and morphed herself into a penetrating fettle position.

Morgan stood to go after her, but Hotch caught his arm. "Morgan…" he stated simply.

Morgan inhaled sharply as he caught a glimpse of the once cute stuffed animal. Its eyes had been torn out, leaving nothing but holes for eyes. Some type of string – probably from Emily's tattered shirt – had been shrewdly wrapped around its neck, suffocating it to death and making its head pop out. Finally, seven X's had been sewn to the bear's lips. But despite all of this, it was the tiny red dots of blood around the bear's face that sent Morgan into a world of panic. Where Emily got a needle, none of them could be sure and for the first time, Morgan was actually afraid she'd hurt herself with the sharp device.

"She must have a needle or something sharp," Rossi stated softly. "She's bleeding."

Sighing heavily, Morgan stood up and made his way over to her. When Reid didn't bother to stop him, he took it as a good sign that the young doctor wouldn't be having a mental breakdown anytime soon. "Emily…" he said as he sat beside her. "Why'd you do this?"

She didn't answer him, didn't even look up to meet his gaze. She just sat there with her head in her knees and her hands in her hair.

"Emily, look at me," he said, his voice stronger this time. "Let me see your hands." This time, when he didn't get a reaction, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug.

It worked.

Almost instantly she returned the unspoken gesture and before he knew it, he was holding her in his lap and rocking her gently. She was crying harder now, heart wrenching sobs that tore him apart. Never had he seen her so upset, so dejected from the world around her. If anything, it felt as if he were comforting a small child, instead of Emily Prentiss herself.

But he let her cry into his chest all the same.

Until you lost the ability, you don't realize how important the art of communication was between two people. How much it filled the voids and fleshes of everyday life. It wasn't just Emily's voice that he missed either; it was also the gestures, the body language, and that quirky laugh. He missed that sound most of all… just hearing her laugh. It had been a rare enough occurrence before this had happened, and he would gladly give his life just to hear it once more.

He ran a soothing hand up and down her back, and he had to bite his lip to keep from grunting out in frustration or punching the nearest wall. He could feel her bones beneath his fingers. Every single one, and until now, he hadn't realized how much the bastard had starved her to death.

"Let me see your hands. Come on…I won't hurt you…I just want to see." He had to pry them open, and when he did, he wasn't surprised to find a tiny needle wedged into the palm of her hand. It wasn't too bad, but she did manage to poke herself enough times with it to draw a good amount of blood.

"I'll get a paper towel," Rossi offered before disappearing into the back.

Hotch let out a heavy sigh. "Where did she get a needle?"

Their best answer was merely a shrug. "The hospital maybe?" Rossi suggested as he returned with a wad of papers towels.

"It could have been anywhere," Morgan said, taking the towels from Rossi and pressing it into Emily's palm.

"I did."

The three other men found Reid's eyes unerringly fast. "What?" they all hissed out in unison.

"I gave it to her," Reid insisted as if it were no big deal at all.

For reasons unknown to him, Morgan found himself tightening his hold on Emily. It was Reid, he knew, but there was just something in the kid's eyes that made him think twice about Reid's sanity. Not to mention, it didn't ease his state of mind when Emily willingly accepted his embrace…almost as if she were trying to disappear within him.

"Why the hell would you give her a needle?" Morgan snapped, not feeling guilty in the slightest.

"Because," Reid stated simply, losing himself in a daze, "she asked."

**7**

_Their kidnapper stood in the doorway with a ring of keys in one hand, and in the other, he gripped Emily, who appeared to be struggling with the simple task of standing. Reid wasn't sure how long the drug had put him out for. It could have been hours. It could have been days. Hell, it could have been only a fucking five minutes. He just didn't know. Couldn't be sure. But however long he'd been knocked out for, it was enough time for Mills to give Emily the first round of his sadistic ways. _

_Without explanation or warning, Mills released his hold on Emily, and she stumbled forward, tripping over the soles of her feet and falling to the ground in a dismantled clump. Instantly, Reid rose from the single cot he had been laying on and scrambled to his feet, but the sudden jolt caused the room to spin around him and his mind went black for a few agonizing seconds. And if only for a moment, he fell to the ground beside her. _

_Through swollen and puffy eyes, Emily glanced up at him and Reid couldn't help but wonder if she was fighting consciousness or drowning in it slowly. His heart sank, realizing that Emily was the least qualified to get inside to _this _unsub's mind. She hadn't known what to say. She hadn't known the background of the seven deadly sins as well as he had. Because of this, Reid couldn't help but wonder if because he talked his way out of a torture, he inflicted more upon her. He would never forgive himself if that were the case. _

_There was a soft thud behind him then and he realized that Mills was placing a tray of food or something of that nature in the corner of the small cell. Maybe, if the drugs weren't still wearing off, Reid would have been more alert, more lucid. He might have even tried to take on the man who held them captive, but the dueling headache pounding in his head rooted him in his rightful place. _

_Emily coughed violently then, sending a shiver up his spin. "…Reid?" she asked, her voice strained. _

_Reid swallowed hard. Only now did his eyes finally begin to adjust to the dark and the binding pain his headache was producing. She was lying on her side and her shirt was clinging to her stomach, only blood holding it in place. But that wasn't all he realized. She was beaten. Badly, but beaten all the same, and like him, there was seven identical burn marks on her forearm. No doubt from the same cigar that had burned him. _

"_What…what'd you do?" Reid forced out as his hand hovered over the various bloody marks that covered her body. She laid almost limp beside him, struggling to breathe. This wasn't part of the profile. Never had Mills committed such a vicious torture at once before. _

"_Maybe next time you'll learn to keep your mouth shut," Mills sneered at him. "She took your place today as well as her own since you weaseled your way out of yours." Mills paused before sending him a sadistic grin. "Don't worry though. You'll get your turn. You can count on it. Oh, and I suggest you eat now because meals like this won't come too often." _

_Reid glanced at the so called meal. "That's not going to feed the two of us," Reid argued. _

"_You're a smart kid. You figure it out. I'll be back in seven days." And with those words said, Mills closed the door behind them, engulfing them in total darkness. _

"_Emily, can you hear me?" Reid asked._

_There was a beat of silence, but she answered him all the same. "Yeah?" _

"_How long have we been here? Do you know?" he asked, fighting tears. "Mills…he knocked me out." He could already feel the side-effects of the drug over taking him. He had worked so hard to avoid that feeling the last few months, which had apparently been an utter waste of his time. _

"_I don't know," she told him, and even he could hear the pain in her voice. _

"_I'm sorry." And he broke then. Just like that. Unwilling tears poured from his eyes, and if there was some sort of light, she would have seen the unmistakable aura of paralyzing fear in his eyes. Perhaps she could hear it in his voice or through his sobs because she reached out a shaking hand to dry his pleas of sorrow._

"_Its okay, Reid," she told him softly. "I don't blame you."_

"_You should," he choked out. "If…I…I never would have been so interested in the ink, or if I hadn't convinced Mills not to torture me."_

"_You what?" she asked, surprise evident in her voice. "How?" _

"_I…I'm not sure. I just told him about lightworkers and the time eleven eleven." _

_She chuckled then. It was forced, but it was still a chuckle all the same. "Whoever would have thought that a clock would have saved your life? Remind me to tell Morgan that maybe that whole eleven thing isn't such a bad idea." _

"_I'm sorry, Emily. I'm so sorry." _

"_It's okay, Reid. I promise you it's okay," she reassured him as if he were a small child. "Trust me. Everything will be okay. The team will find us soon. They'll come." _

"_And…and if they don't?" _

"_Then we'll fight our way out."_

_He could almost hear her grin, and because he was a complete idiot, he dared to let himself believe her false hope. _

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**Question: Do you guys like the flashbacks or the present day parts better? Or both equal? Just wondering. **

**Hope this was okay. Thanks again to everyone who's reading. ~Riley**

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	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks so much your reviews! And thanks for your responses to the question I asked. I was just curious. I have to say, this is where _I _started to get into the story. The other chapters were just getting the story started... now I'm going to (try) and have everything build up. See, I've planned this story out from the beginning to end before I started writing, so what I'm hoping is that all the little things will fall into place and make more sense at the end. Hopefully.**

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**--Seven--**

**Chapter 7**

_When Reid finally woke, he realized that at least several hours had passed since Emily and his last conversation. He did not remember falling asleep, but he suspected that he only succumbed to pure exhaustion and the undying silence. His arms were wrapped around her and until now, he hadn't realized how deathly cold she was. __With nothing to do or nothing to eat, their strength was slowly diminishing, and since Mills had beaten the crap out of her during his last visit, Reid feared for her will-being. _He stayed still for a moment, listening to the active beating of her heart, which was a good sign. 

_Reid couldn't be sure how long they'd been in the cell for, but he knew it had been for quite sometime. Without any windows or a simple clock, Reid had already lost count of the days, as well as the hours, the minutes. It felt like ten years since they had last seen Mills, but Reid was pretty sure it had only been around six days. If he had to take a guess, Reid would have said that Mills would show up not a minute_ _pass seven days, just like the man had said. So now, he was praying that the team was close to finding them before those seven days came to an end. _

"_Emily?" he whispered to see if she was awake. _

_If she was awake or not, he couldn't be sure, but it didn't quite matter, because at that moment, the door was thrown against the wall with a deafening bang. If she wasn't awake a moment ago, she was definitely awake now. As Reid had feared, their seven days were up._

"_Wake up, Boy," Mills spat. "I had another dream from God. Apparently, you were telling the truth." _

_Reid blinked back the light that was now pouring into the room. It blinded him, so when Mills roughly grabbed him by the collar, pulling him to his feet, he was monetarily caught off guard. And only then did the words Mills had just spoke register in his brain. _

"_What?" Reid stuttered. _

"_We'll talk elsewhere," Mills whispered in his ear. "Not while there are demons around." _

"_I…Emily's not…"_

"_Leave him alone," Emily spoke up suddenly. _

_Reid glanced out of the corner of his eye. She was struggling to her feet and for a moment, anger swelled up inside of him. Hadn't she ever heard of the words 'back off' before? He could deal with this. He didn't need her getting more beat up than she already was. He could take it, just like the rest of his team, though apparently they thought otherwise. "Emily, it's fine…just stay –"_

_But his warning came too late, because at that moment, Mills swung his free hand back and whacked her across the face. She fell backwards and her head roughly hit the ground. With any other unsub, it would have been over, but because it was Mills, he hit her again. And again. And again. He hit her seven times until she was nearly knocked unconscious. _

_And Reid had to watch. _

_He tried to fight, tried to stop those punches destroying her face, her body, but the lack of food and water for the last few days had gotten to him. He couldn't think straight, couldn't seem to move his muscles, couldn't breathe. He was so weak. So utterly weak. And the more he tried, the more he failed. It was of no use, so he collapsed to the ground beside her and cried softly into her shoulder. _

"_Now," Mills spoke once he was done, "come on. We need to talk." _

"_No," Reid spat out, desperately clawing at the ground, at Emily, but she was losing herself to unconsciousness beside him. _

"_Boy, everything will be alright. I can promise you that," Mills spoke in a voice that was frighteningly sooth. "This demon can't brainwash you anymore." And with those words said, Mills grabbed Reid roughly by the collar and heaved him effortlessly out the door, leaving Emily completely and utterly alone. _

_**7**_

Reid eyed Garcia and JJ suspiciously. Two days after their return to Quantico, Garcia had decided to throw a little bash at JJ's and Will's house (despite the fact that the smaller blond told her not to) and as a result, the entire team was seated in JJ's living room. However, despite the soft chatting and the forced laughter, it was an understatement to say things were running smoothly. From passing neighbors, it would have appeared and sounded just like any other happy family reunion, but it was far from it. Emily still hadn't said anything, though her gaze was now slightly more alert then it had been, and Reid just glared at everyone from where he sat. Subconsciously, they were all trying to act as if the kidnapping had never happened.

"I think it's time for a toast," Garcia piped up suddenly and everyone raised their beer, water, or whatever it was they were drinking. "To us, who never gave up. I'm so glad you guys are home." The last statement was directed at Emily and Reid, but they just dazed off into nothingness, seeming as if they could have cared less at what Garcia had just said. This reaction alone was enough for Garcia to tear up. Again.

"Baby-girl, give them some time," Morgan whispered into her ear. "They went through a lot."

Garcia nodded grimly. "Will everything go back to the way it was?" she asked him, tears glistening in her eyes.

Morgan squeezed her hand gently. "I hope so, baby-girl. I really do."

"Here, I'll take the plates," Rossi offered suddenly, wanting nothing more than a break from this so called 'party'.

Will stood up from his place beside JJ also and offered Rossi a smile and a thick accent. "Let me help you with those."

"Thanks," Rossi said as they disappeared into the kitchen.

JJ smiled weakly at everybody as she shifted Henry in her arms. He turned two months old yesterday and she was more than thrilled that Reid had lived to see his Godchild. "Reid," she spoke up softly, "do you want to hold him?"

Reid eyes widened as he glanced at the little ball of joy. To be perfectly honest, he didn't want to hold anything, nor did he want to be the Godfather of someone he hardly knew. And with everybody staring at him, waiting for a response, he didn't want to be there now. Maybe, six months ago he would have cared, but now all he believed in was hopelessness. "JJ…I don't think…"

But she was already shoving Henry into his arms and it wasn't as if he could drop the small boy, so unwilling he held the baby awkwardly in his arms. "Watch his head…watch…watch there." JJ smiled brightly, as did the others around them. It was the first time they really saw Reid connect to someone besides Emily.

Morgan nudged Garcia beside him. "See. I told you. It's a slow process, but they are recovering."

"Reid is, but what about Emily?"

"Emily will recover, Garcia. You'll see," he pressed, but he wasn't sure if he was trying to convince her or himself.

"They will be okay," Hotch said as he walked up behind them, making them both jump. "Morgan, I was going to call Emily's mother tonight," he stated bluntly, cutting straight to the point.

"What? Why?" Morgan asked.

"She can't stay by herself."

"That's why she's staying with me," Morgan told him, pointing out the obvious.

Hotch's brows fused together as he regarded his agent skeptically. "Reid's staying with you too, so I'm sure they're a lot to handle."

"She can stay with me," Garcia jumped in suddenly. "I don't mind."

"No," Morgan stepped in. "She's not going anywhere. Besides, do you _want _Reid to go into a catatonic state too? He hasn't left Emily's side since we found her, so what do you think would happen if we just took her away?"

"Morgan," Hotch huffed, annoyance creeping into the undertone of his voice. "It's not my idea. I have no power over this. You are not responsible for her medically. Her mother still has those rights. You don't."

"I don't care," Morgan snapped. By now, a silence had washed over the room and everyone was watching their argument intently. Even Emily, who had been utterly dejected from the world, was staring at them with wonderment in her eyes.

Hotch sighed, forcing himself not to raise his voice. He knew this would be hard on everybody, especially Morgan, which was why he had put this conversation off for three days now. "I know it's hard and I don't like it either, but her mother –"

Morgan lost it then, completely lost it. "Fuck her mother, Hotch."

"Okay," JJ stood up quickly at the sound of the curse word. "I think it's time for Henry to be changed."

"I'll help," Garcia offered, more than happy to let the conversation die.

"Morgan," Hotch warned once the two ladies had left, "perhaps we should talk about this another time…" His gazed shifted over to Emily and Reid, who were still seated in the room and hanging onto their every word, but apparently Morgan had forgotten that fact.

"And when's a good time, Hotch. Huh? When Emily's being shipped off to some fucking mental institution? Is that a good time for you?"

"Look, I know you're upset…"

"No," Morgan yelled, but his voice cracked then, making it clear to Hotch that Morgan wasn't angry because of Emily's mother, but because he couldn't lose her. Not again. "You know that's what she'll do, Hotch. She's going to take one look at Em and throw her into an institution. Do you want that?"

"You know I wouldn't."

Morgan bit his lip. "She's fine at my house. They both are. They're doing well there. They're recovering," Morgan told him softly, his voice considerably changing to a nicer tone.

Hotch sighed and nodded. "I'll talk to the Ambassador, but I don't know if it'll go over well. I'll try. I can promise you that."

"That's all I ask," Morgan whispered.

"You two done," a voice spoke from behind them, "or do you children need some more alone time?"

Hotch glared at his longtime friend who had just reentered the living room. He could have said a number of snappy remarks, but instead, he just went with, "We're done."

"Good." Rossi smiled weakly at them before peering around the living room. "I think you scared everybody off."

Morgan's face fell then. "Hey, where are Emily and Reid?"

Hotch's eyes darted around the room, but the duo was nowhere in sight. They hadn't followed Garcia and JJ upstairs, Hotch and Morgan both knew, they had been right there. He was sure of it. "I'm sure they're here somewhere," Hotch said, remaining hopeful.

"Damn it," Rossi cursed.

"What?"

Morgan's heart dropped inside of him when he saw the front door left wide open. "Shit," he cursed as he ran out the door, hoping that for once, everything would be okay.

_**7**_

_Reid groaned as he was pushed inside another dark room. This was it. The torture was finally going to come. It was his turn and there was no doubt in his mind that it would be a thousand times worse than Emily's had been. After all, she hadn't been the one to patronize him. She hadn't been the one to make up those lies. However, whatever he had not been hoping for never came. Instead, Mills placed a soft hand on his should and gently pulled him to his feet. Reid trembled at the contact, preparing himself for what was sure to come. _

_A punch. A kick. Anything. _

_But nothing did. _

_Instead, Mills walked causally over to a table that Reid just now noticed. There was a full plate of food sitting there and the smell alone had his mouth watering for its taste. Never had he been so hungry in his life. He hadn't split the food Mills had given them evenly. He had gave most of it to Emily, though she thought otherwise, but it was dark, so thankfully she had no idea. However, living off a piece of bread and a block of cheese was not enough to live off of for seven days. _

"_Sit," Mills ordered. "Please." _

_And only because he was sure he'd collapse if he didn't, he took the seat. It was an understatement to say he was surprised when Mills pushed the plate of food towards him. _

"_Eat," Mills said, sensing his hesitation. "It's not poison. Trust me. If I was going to kill you, I'd take you out in a more sadistic way." _

_The man was telling the truth, Reid knew, so he took one look at the food before devouring it completely. He was starving, impossibly hungry. If he was skinny before, then he was anorexic looking now, he was sure of it. Then suddenly, he thought of Emily in that cell without any food at all and he had to fight the urge to gag. _

"_Slow down," Mills cut in. "You'll be sick if you don't." _

_Reid swallowed hard, then forcing himself to do so, he put his fork down. "Why?" _

"_What do you mean why? It's common sense. If you eat too fast, you'll eat to much and then get sick," Mills told him lightly, then after a moment of silence, he added, "I'm sorry I didn't believe you before…about the whole lightworker thing." _

_Reid nearly choked to death. "Really?" he squeaked out. _

_Mills glanced down, almost shyly. This wasn't the same man who had knocked them out and kidnapped them seven days ago. "I had a dream… a dream from God. He explained it to me. He told me that you are to be my replacement when I finish my seven sinners." _

_Suddenly, Reid lost his appetite. The man was insane. Completely and utterly insane. Why was he always the one who got stuck with the religious freaks? And if it wasn't for his weak state and lack of concentration, or the fact that Mills could snap him in two with just his fingers, Reid would have taken him right then and there. "W…what?" _

"_When I die, it'll be your job to find seven other demons," Mills told him as if it were obvious. _

"_I don't know how."_

"_I'll teach you everything you need to know about torturing and killing the demon inside. I'll show you how to do the tattoos. Everything."_

"_But…I don't believe in demons."_

_Mills eyed him suspiciously before a sadistic smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You will in time, Boy. Trust me on that one." _

_Reid began to tremble. "I don't think I could replace you," he said, building a confidence he didn't know he had._

"_You'll have to," Mills insisted. "There needs to be peace on earth again. You of all people should know this." _

"_But we don't kill people." Reid gulped then and forced himself to look Mills in the eye. "Lightworkers come together in order to restore Heaven and Earth, not to kill." _

"_We don't kill people. We kill demons. There's a difference." Mills stood then and began to pace around the table. "I've been thinking. You told me a couple of days ago that you didn't know your purpose as a lightworker… right?"_

_Reid hesitated. "Yes." _

"_Well, I think I know what it is," Mills said, excitement evident in his voice. "It's to carry on my job, just like I carried on my father's. God clearly sent you here for a reason. I should have known from the moment you stepped into my house that you weren't like that whore of a demon."_

"_Emily isn't –"_

"_My God," Mills cut him off, "this demon has brainwashed you far more than I originally thought. Don't worry, Boy, we will fix this. Trust me." _

"_I can't take over…" Reid whispered, but he couldn't quite bring those words to life. "I... I can't do that."_

_"We'll train every seven days for seven hours. I'll show you how the schedule works."_

_"But..."_

"_Now if you'll excuse me. Please eat while I'm gone. I'll be right back." And with those words said, Mills disappeared out the door, locking it behind him. _

_Reid listened to the heavy footsteps heading down the hall, and once they were out of ear shot, he scrambled to his feet and clawed at the door. But it was of no use. It was too heavy to kick down and the lock was too intricate to pick. Letting out a sigh of defeat, he slumped down on the dusty floor. _

_Only now did he really consider where he was being held. The hallway he had just came down had been dark, dusty, and nearly impossible to navigate without a map. They weaved in, out, and all around. It was an underground maze, a basement of some sort. It reminded him of the movie 'Kiss the Girls' or 'Silence of the Lambs', and he had to fight the urge to cry out. __As much as he loved those movie, he vowed to never watch them again. _

_Suddenly, hope swelled inside of him and his FBI training kicked in. If he could just knock Mills out for a second, then maybe he could get Emily and himself out of here. So with that thought in his head, he stumbled to his feet and prepared to fight. The footsteps were back now and his heart started to beat erratically as someone fumbled with lock on the other side. _

_It was now or never. Live together, die alone, Reid thought as he prepared himself. _

_And the door was thrown open. _

_However, before Reid even had the chance to throw a punch, he was caught off guard. It wasn't Mills who had walked through the door, but Emily. Relief swelled up inside of him at the sight of her, but it was soon replaced with anger and frustration. She was thinner, just like him, but it wasn't the thinnest that got to him. It was the bruises and the scars that covered her body. Mills had done an excellent job at beating the shit out of her, and at that moment he vowed to kill the man… that is, if Emily hadn't beaten him to it. _

"_Emily, thank God." Reid ran to her, letting his defensive position drop. _

"_Reid," she rasped out. _

"_But how did you get out? I don't understand…" _

_She tripped then – no, someone pushed her – and she stumbled to the floor. Instinctively, he opened his arms and he caught her against his chest. If he wasn't so focused on her, he would have seen that Mills had reentered the room and was looming over them with an ironwood needle in his hand._

"_Your training begins now, Boy," Mills spoke then. "Starting with her." _


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks for the Reviews. **

* * *

**--Seven--**

**Chapter 8**

_Mills forced Reid to his feet and shoved him into the nearest chair. He effortlessly did the same to Emily and dropped her into the seat across from Reid. She was so weak. So hopelessly tired. Reid could see it the way her eyes drooped, in the way she really wasn't focused on what was happening around her. It was the lack of food and water, no doubt, and it made him wonder if she even knew what Mills had planned for them. _

"_She needs water," Reid insisted, anything to put off the torture._

"_She doesn't need anything."_

"_She'll die." _

_Mills considered that for a moment. "Fine, she can finish your glass of water if you so desire, but you're not getting anymore for today. Remember that." _

_Reid nodded. He hardly drank any of it, but she needed it more than him and that was enough to make up his mind. So reaching over to the half-full glass, (or considering their situation, half-empty) he gently poured it into her cracked lips. She drank it with need until there was nothing left, but it wasn't enough. She was dehydrated, she was sick, and she needed a doctor. There was no doubt in Reid's mind that she was running off of pure adrenalin and that was it._

"_We'll start with the tattoo of shame," Mills spoke suddenly, his voice returning to that ominous and deep-set one. "Her soul bleeds pride. Lucifer has taken over her soul and is eating it away. Hopefully we can stop him before it's too late." _

_Reid locked eyes with Emily then and she gave him a pointed a look – a look that told him it was okay, but still he could not bring himself to do it. "I don't think I could manage it as well as you," Reid told him, attempting to weasel them both out of the act. _

_Mills smiled at him, clearly in awe. "You won't," he assured him. "However, you'll have to learn sometime. How else will you carry on my job after I die?" __As his sentenced died, he calmly picked up one of the ironwood needles, testing the pierced end against his palm. Then he came up from behind Emily and expertly began to bind her right hand to the chair, deliberately turning it palm-up and spreading the fingers out in preparation. _

"_I'm not a demon," Emily spoke up, her voice surprisingly strong. _

"_Shut-up! The devil lives inside of you and he will be silenced," Mills spat, before turning back to Reid. "Let me tell you something, Son, and you better remember it. All women are the devil."_

"_May I ask why?" Reid asked. He would have done anything to put off the torture what was sure to come for Emily. _

_Mills gripped Emily's chin, forcing her to look him in the eye. "Would you trust something that bleeds for seven days every month and doesn't die?" _

_There were so many things Reid could have said to that, but because he didn't want to get on his bad side, Reid went with, "I never thought about it that way before." _

"_Exactly. We only keep the whores around so they can bare a child." Mills grabbed the tattoo mixing bowl from off the table and began stirring the ink in a precise, counter-clockwise motion. The dark black color was reminiscent of liquid tar, and the implications carried with it were terrifying. "Now we can begin." _

_He pulled up a chair next to Reid, so they were both facing Emily, who was unusually calm. Reid wanted to shake her, ask her what the hell was wrong with her. Most people would be trembling, most people would struggle, and yet she just sat there, silent and cooperative. Why? He had know idea and it was sending him into a world of hysterics._

_And then he realized. _

_She was compartmentalizing, not for her sake, but for his. _

"_I…I don't think I can," Reid told him honestly. His eyes darted to the locked door, wondering if he'd be able to knock Mills out, get the keys, untie Emily, and get the hell out before Mills woke up. Reid highly doubted that he would even be able to push him over, let alone knock the guy out. Not to mention he was still jittery from those drugs Mills had gave him a week ago. He would be lying to say he wasn't craving them now. _

"_I'll do the first letter, so you can watch. You can do the rest, okay?" _

_Reid didn't answer, he didn't want to. His eyes rose in terror when Emily jumped as the needle first punctured her skin. Mills ignored it completely. Instead, he kept going, making the letter 'P' large and perfect. Reid had to close his eyes. This wasn't your normal tattoo, it wasn't a good needle, and it most definitely wasn't going to be painless. Reid knew this. He'd been studying this since they had got the case. He knew how it was done, knew how much pain it caused, which was why he couldn't watch Emily now. _

_Thirty minutes passed before Mills finally pushed the needle into Reid's hand and said, "Your turn." _

_Reid forced his eyes open. When he saw Emily give the slightest of nods, he broke then. He couldn't do this, couldn't do this to her, which was why unwilling tears began to swell in his eyes. He hadn't even realized they were falling until Emily spoke up._

"_It's okay, Reid," she rasped out. "I rather you do it anyway." _

_But he couldn't mark her like this. She would live with this tattoo forever. "No," he spoke suddenly. "She's not the demon. I am. I'm Pride. I'm Lucifer. Mark me instead."_

_Emily shook her head violently. "Reid..." _

_Mills actually had the nerve to laugh. "My God, this demon couldn't have brain washed you more. What has she said to you to make you care so much?" Mills patted him on the shoulder as if Reid were his son. "You'll see soon. God doesn't lie and you are not a demon." _

"_Reid, it's okay," Emily assured him again. _

"_No it's not. I can't…"_

"_Just do it," she practically shouted at him, scaring him. _

_Reid hesitated before nodding slowly. At least she was willing to forgive him if he bestowed this mark on her. His hand trembled as he gripped the needle in his hand. It felt so wrong, so utterly wrong, but he had to do this. For both their sakes. _

"_I'm sorry," he whispered before piercing the needle with her skin. _

**7**

Morgan found them at a bank five blocks from JJ's house. Of all the places they could have gone, they chose a bank. Why, Morgan hadn't a clue and he didn't really care. The only thing on his mind was to get them back before they died of hypothermia, and with their current body fat, that wouldn't be a very difficult task to accomplish. So now, he was standing by the entrance door, studying them intently as Reid attempted to work the AMT machine, which apparently wasn't working for him.

"Jesus, Buddy," an inpatient guy standing behind Reid cursed. "I don't have all day."

And before Reid could snap, Morgan took a few steps forward and intervened with the conversation. "Hey, I got this," he said to the man. Then quickly, he turned back to his friends, who were, at this moment, more lost than he had ever seen them before. It made his heart crumble, his bones break. So more for his state of mind, than theirs, he placed a reassuring hand on Reid's shoulder, hoping that that simple gesture could make it better.

"Get away from us," Reid shouted.

The man who was still behind them huffed again. "Look guys, I really have –"

"Then go inside," Morgan snapped, which earned him a glare, but the guy did have the decency to leave them be. "Reid," he began, once they were alone, "you can't just take off like that. You understand me?"

Reid took a step away from him, and for one startling second, he fumbled backwards and slipped on the black ice beneath his feet.

"Whoa, easy there," Morgan soothed as he caught Reid before he hit the pavement.

But Reid apparently wasn't in the mood for a talk, because he roughly pushed Morgan away from him. "Go away."

"Reid…"

"No," Reid spat, turning his attention back to Emily, who was sitting on the ground and shivering violently. "Come on. We're going."

Emily stood up then as if Reid's simple commend was all it took for her to listen. Morgan studied her intently. Never had she _really_ listened to him before. All he got from her was an expression nearing nothing. He could hardly get her to eat, let alone stand. He had just accepted the fact that she couldn't process anything, but apparently he was wrong. "Reid, you don't have money," Morgan said, forcing himself back on path.

"That's because this stupid machine isn't working."

Morgan wanted to call him out on the language the Reid he knew six months ago wouldn't have used. However, thinking that would just make Reid angrier, he took a different route. "And where do you plan on going?"

Reid shrugged as if this conversation was pointless. "I'd fine a place. Somewhere safe."

Giving him a sad-eye smile, Morgan glanced at Emily again. She stopped shivering, but that surely didn't ease his state of mind. She was only wearing a t-shirt and jeans, so she had to be freezing. Hell, he was freezing and he was wearing a winter coat. "Let's go back. Everybody is worried sick. We'll start a fire, so you two can get warmed –"

"No!" Reid screamed suddenly, backing up slowly as if Morgan were the plague itself. "I'm not going anywhere with you. You'll just take her away."

"We're not taking Emily away," Morgan tried to sooth, but failed miserably.

"I'm not deaf, Morgan. I heard you." Reid gripped Emily's arm then and began to pull her down the street, but Morgan caught her wrist and ripped her out of Reid's hands.

"She's not going anywhere. You're both staying with me. Hotch was just mistaken." Sighing, he tore off his jacket and wrapped it around Emily and pulled her closer to him. He smiled when she breathed in the scent of him and relaxed under his touch.

Reid stared at Emily with a look Morgan couldn't quite place. "You promise?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"I promise."

"Good, because you can't take her away yet," Reid admitted, his voice considerably changing to a different tone, a plea. "Not yet. The plan isn't done. Not yet. And if you take her away, that's not part of the plan."

Morgan felt his heart drop inside of him at the sounds of Reid's desperate cries. They were the cries of a person who was mentally unstable, and for the first time since the abduction, Morgan had a sickening thought that perhaps Reid needed more medical help after all. "What plan?" he asked calmly.

"The plan! It's not part of the plan," Reid snapped at him, cried. "We have to stick to the plan at all cost. At _all _cost."

He was growing more hysteric by the second and Morgan feared that they'd start a scene if they didn't stop this conversation now, but still, Morgan couldn't help but ask, "Not yet?"

Reid glanced at Emily slowly; who by now had morphed back into that nothingness state Morgan was growing familiar with. "We can't leave yet. In five weeks we can, but not now. Now we have to stay here and wait. Five weeks. It has to be five weeks. _Then, _it'll be okay. Emily will be free. She'll be free in five weeks. For now, we wait."

"Reid, what are you talking about," Morgan asked exasperated. It was as if someone else was talking for the young doctor, as if he was reciting something from someone else's memory and not his own. "What are we waiting for?"

"Mills," Reid stated simply, before walking away.

**7**

_It took him four hours to finish the tattoo. Four fucking hours. And Emily had just sat there, letting him subject her to that torture. He could feel her trembling, feel her racing pulse beneath his fingertips. Her lips were bloody from forcing herself not to scream and her eyes were clamped shut, but that wasn't enough to stop the tears from escaping her closed lids. It sent Reid into a world of hysterics. He couldn't breathe, which was making it impossible to think. However, Mills coached him through every fucking step of the way. _

_When he was finally done, her wrist was just a raw, black, and bloody mess. She wore the word pride around her wrist like a bracelet and as soon as he finished off the letter 'E', Reid fell out of his chair and vomited on the floor. _

_Mills congratulated him for a job well done. _

_Reid threw up again. _

"_Now," Mills said, glancing at his watch as he did so. "We still have a little under three hours left. I believe there is still time for another round." _

"_What?" Reid asked, wide eye with fear. But he should have known that it wouldn't be over. Mills never just did something once. No, it had to have something do with the number seven. Yes. There would at least be seven rounds in their seven hours together. _

_Without warning, Mills kicked Emily's chair out from under her and she fell to the ground hard. She groaned slightly as the world suddenly began to cave in around her. For a moment, her mind blackened and when she finally woke seconds later, she found herself on the floor with Gregory Mills on top of her, crushing her. She gasped, struggling to breathe, but he was depriving her lungs from much needed air. She tried to fight, but with the lack of food and energy, she didn't stand a chance. She felt that dark abyss starting to overtake her again, and this time she didn't mind it so much. In fact, she welcomed it, but it didn't last for long because Reid quickly pulled her out of it. _

"_Stop. Stop it!" Reid screamed hysterically, and with all the effort he could muster, he attempted to push Mills off of her, but the guy hardly budged. Instead, Mills shot out his hand, sending Reid falling back to the ground, thereby causing him to hit his head on the table behind him. Immediately, Reid felt the room spin around him. _

"_Such a whore," Mills sneered, but he adjusted his weight on her body so she could at least breathe. _

_She welcomed the air with greed. "I can take it," she said, directing her comment towards Reid, who was fighting consciousness. "I can take it." _

"_You can take it?" Mills sneered. Then suddenly his hands were on her, gliding over her unwillingly body. Thinking the worst as his hands made their way up underneath her shirt, she struggled against him. However, his __large, athletically built, with a sturdy and powerful frame, was much more than she had anticipated__. There was no doubt in her mind that he was stronger than Morgan, which was saying something. __Roughened hands forged a trail from her waist up to her sternum, and then he grabbed hold of her v-neck shirt at the collar and savagely ripped it apart. The pieces of shredded material were carelessly tossed aside to the other end of the room. Straightening, on top of her, he triumphantly eyed the now bared skin of her upper body, covered only by a black cotton bra. _

"_You a virgin, Boy?" _

_A sudden wave of fear forced Reid to regain consciousness and stumble to his feet. He could feel the warm flow of blood seeping down his forehead from where he had hit his head, but that was the least of his worries. Never had he expected to see the all consuming fright in Emily's eyes. This alone was enough to make him become sick yet again. Thankfully, Mills interpreted his actions for completely different reasons. _

"_It's okay. I wouldn't want her to be my first time either." _

_Relief swelled up inside of him. But it didn't last for long, because Mills was tearing off his belt and Reid felt his stomach twist painfully inside of him. Emily struggled until she was crawling backwards, out of Mills reach, but he caught her legs and pulled her back to him with ease. _

"_Stop it," Reid screamed, making his way towards them again. He was prepared to fight, prepared to die…and he didn't care. As long as he saved Emily from what Mills had in mind, nothing else mattered. _

_However, Mills decidedly ignored him. "Relax. I'm not going to fuck her. I don't screw demons. "Here," he said, shoving his belt into Reid's hands, "take this."_

_It was an understatement to say Reid was surprised. Reid weighed it, feeling the leather strap against his finger tips. "…I don't understand." _

"_Take the whip boy," Mills said as he forced Emily to a kneeling position. _

_She grunted, cursing as she did so. "You sick son of a bitch." _

"_Shut the fuck up, whore."_

_With the belt in Reid's hands and with Emily's bare back facing him, he understood what Mills implications were. God, he felt sick. But there was nothing left in his stomach to throw up. Again, he felt the room spinning around him, felt his world slipping away. "I can't…"_

_Mills looked offended. "Boy, what is with you? You can damn well do it. Do you want this demon to walk around freely?" _

_His hands began to shake so violently he could hardly keep the leather strap still. "She's not a demon. Trust me. I've known her for years… she's not a demon. She's my friend," Reid pleaded, begged. _

"_God does not lie." _

"_God did not come to you," Reid shot back in hopes to inflict Mills torturous ways upon him instead of Emily. _

_But Mills was smarter than he appeared. "Boy, stop protecting her. You have to learn sometime." _

"_Reid," Emily spoke suddenly. "Just do it, Reid. It's okay." _

"_Shut-up." Mills gripped her shoulders, forcing her into an almost impossible position. _

_Reid frantically looked for a way out, but besides the locked door, there was none. But then his eyes locked on Mills and he nodded. "I…I... okay." _

_The sigh of fear or relief Emily let out swept across the room, sending shivers up his spin. Letting out a heavy sigh, Reid gripped the metal part in his hand, so it'd be less painful for her, but Mills called him out on it. _

_Just like Reid knew he would. _

"_No. Not like that," Mills scowled. "Hold it from the opposite end, so the metal part will hit the skin. How else will the demon inside feel it?" _

_Reid switched the sides of the belt, and with a shaky hand, he raised it over his head. Tears began to spill over his eyes. This was far worse than being torture. He couldn't do this, couldn't hurt her. Not like this. So summing false strength, he brought the whip down hard. But his actions weren't directed for Emily. _

_They never had been._

_Instead, he aimed and hit Mills right in the face, knocking their kidnapper to the floor. _

* * *

**So I have no Idea how long it takes to get an old tribal tattoo. People on yahoo answers said a tattoo about the size of a quarter, with no color took about 15 to 30 minutes, so I just went by that. And since Reid doesn't know what he's doing and doesn't want to do it, I just doubled the time. And if it was wrong, all well. But other than that, I hope the rest was alright. ~Riley**

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	9. Chapter 9

**--Seven--**

**Chapter 9**

_The belt struck Mills across the center of his face, scaring him for life and sending him to the floor with a heavy thump. Momentarily caught off guard, Reid stood rooted in place, shocked at what he just did. It wasn't until Emily snapped him back into reality did he begin to process the world around him. _

"_Come on," she hissed, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the door, which unfortunately, was as far as they would get. "Damn it!" _

_Reid threw his body at the door, desperately hoping to knock it over like Morgan, but it wouldn't budge. The only way to open the door was the key currently wrapped around Mills's neck, and there was no doubt in Reid's mind that that would be an impossible task. Even if they had something to pick the lock with, Reid knew it would take minutes. Time they didn't have. _

"_Can't you pick it?" Emily asked breathlessly. _

_Reid sent Mills a glance, who was now struggling to stand, before turning his attention back to Emily, who needed food in her system. The last time she really ate was a good six to seven days ago, which wasn't enough to keep you running. Even the adrenaline running through her veins wasn't enough to keep her going for long, and Reid was pretty sure that she used it all up when he marked her with the needle. It was only a matter of time before she passed out now. _

_As if on queue, Emily swayed slightly before toppling sideways into his arms. He caught her around the waist and her head slumped against his shoulder. He attempted to push her back to her feet, but her dead weight wasn't helping. "Emily, come on. Not now. Don't give up. Not now." _

_It was enough for her to open her eyes, but it wasn't enough to bring the strength they both needed back into her body. "Reid, just go. I'll be okay." _

"_You fucking son of a bitch," Mills cursed suddenly. _

_Reid found Mills's eyes unerringly fast. The man was standing on wobbly feet now and holding his face where blood poured out from between his fingers. Reid stumbled backwards with Emily in his arms until he hit the wall behind him. They weren't getting out unless they died trying. So sighing inwardly, Reid gripped the leather strap tightly in his hand._

"_Boy, you can't fight me. I always win."_

_Reid let Emily gently fall to the ground beside him as he got into a defensive position. It was now or never. Her fight or flight response may not be working, but his was. "Not this time. This time, I win."_

_Mills laughed that menacing laugh. "Boy, haven't you figured out yet that God is on my side." _

"_Go to hell," Reid cursed before bringing the belt down hard again. It hit Mills's shoulder, tearing off skin in the process, but the man did not back down. _

"_Want to try again?" _

_He did exactly that, but when Mills caught the other end of the belt in his hand, Reid couldn't help but let out a shout of surprise. Mills pulled on the strap, and Reid went flying across the room. And then as quickly as it began, Mills gained the upper hand and there was no stopping him, no matter how hard he fought. _

"_You want to test the will of God? Fine, but that means I get to test it too," Mills sneered as he put pressure on his knee, which was currently pressing into Reid's chest. _

_Reid coughed violently as he felt his rib cage collapsing and the air beginning to leave his lungs. If this was what drowning felt like, Reid didn't mind so much. It felt like sleeping. It wasn't even painful once you got past a center point. The painful part was crudely coming back to reality without warning or explanation. _

"_You are not a demon," Mills hissed, though Reid hardly processed any of it. "I know that, she knows that, but you apparently don't. Why you want to be like her, I can't be sure, but I'll fix that. I'll place you in holding and you'll see. Without her, you'll be free. You'll be free." _

_Reid felt the needle pierce his skin before he saw it, and by then, it was already too late to stop it from happening. And for the first time in months, Reid welcomed the drug he had so desperately been trying to avoid. _

**7**

Morgan knelt beside Emily at the small, child like table. They had built a trail of dominoes and Emily had just pushed the first one over with the tip of her finger. A ghost of a smile morphed across her face as the black blocks collapsed against each other, zigzagging until it reached its end. And because it was the first time he'd seen her smile in months, he smiled along with her and buried his face in her hair. She smelt like vanilla, a fragrance he purposely went out and bought because it reminded him of who she use to be.

"Do you want to restack them?" he asked, lingering at her ear and questioning her as if she were a child.

She didn't answer him, but he hadn't expected her too. Instead, her smile vanished completely and she instantly returned to that nothingness state again. It was times like these, when the cruel reality would sink in. And the fact that he was playing at a kid's table with a fully grown adult made his heart break. This alone was enough to make him wonder if _he _would ever morph into that nothingness state along with her. After all, you couldn't live for very long without a heart.

He caught the eye of another family in the waiting room. At a first glance they were just your average family; a mother, a father, and a child. The six year old girl was staring at them as if they were the monster under her bed. The father, who remained tensed and uncooperative, told Morgan that this little girl would not have two parents in the near future if things didn't go well here. He prayed that they would. No child deserved that.

"Hey, Em," he said softly. "Why don't we go sit down? I think this little girl might want to play. Is that okay?"

When Emily didn't answer him, he helped her up off the floor and eased them to the bench nearby. They were currently in the waiting room of Dr. Herington's psychiatrist ward. After a week of returning home, Morgan felt that it was time for her to see a doctor, one that could perhaps get through to Emily's catatonic state before her mother arrived and took her away. It wasn't his idea, but the Ambassador was currently overseas and insisted that her daughter got the help she needed. Only then, would she allow Morgan to watch over her for the time being.

"What's wrong with her," the little girl asked in a way only a child could.

"Sarah!" A woman, who could only be the child's mother, snapped.

The little girl shrunk back, not entirely sure what she did wrong. "But Mommy…"

"It's fine," Morgan cut in quickly. Sighing, he glanced at Emily before turning back to the small girl. "I don't know what's wrong with her. That's what we're waiting to find out."

"So she wasn't always like this?"

"No. Not at all."

The girl cocked her head to the side and studied Emily intently. "What's her name?"

"Emily. Her name is Emily."

Sarah's face brightened considerably. "That's my doll's name," she said, showing Morgan an American Girl doll, very similar looking to the child herself. The only difference was its dark brown eyes; a color so much like Emily's that it pained him.

"Agent Morgan," A voice spoke suddenly. Morgan's head snapped up. Emily's therapist, Dr. Herington, was standing before him and eyeing him with a level of concern. "Could I have a word?"

For a moment, he wasn't really sure what to do. He would have left Emily alone, but he wasn't sure if the girl's parents minded. However, he caught the mother's eyes and she gave the slightest of nods, and Morgan smiled thankfully.

"I'll be right back," he whispered to Sarah. "Why don't you tell Emily a story?"

The girl nodded, instantly chatting away, despite the fact that Emily wasn't paying remotely attention. Sighing contently and glancing at Emily one last time, he stepped into Dr. Herington's office and she closed the door softly behind them.

"How is she?" he asked hurriedly.

"Please sit," Dr. Herington said, gesturing to the chair across from her desk.

Morgan nodded, painfully aware of the fact that she had ignored his question all together. But Dr. Herington was the kind of woman that could ease your troubles away. She had bright cherry hair and a smile you could trust. There was just something about her that made her hard to hate, which was why Morgan couldn't lash out at her now.

"Is it that bad?" he asked softly.

"I'll be honest," she began, watching him carefully. "I've never seen anything like it before. Not even in my twenty years on the job, nothing comes close."

"Either have I," Morgan admitted, and he had seen a lot over the years, which was saying something. "Will she ever be…normal?" he asked, for lack of a better word.

"That's hard to say, Agent Morgan. Even if she does come out of her catatonic state, she'll never forget what happened to her. Those memories will always be there. They'll haunt her for the rest of her life, you have to remember that."

"Emily's strong," he whispered, desperately trying to convince himself of this unlikely fact.

Dr. Herington smiled weakly before pulling a file out of her desk. "Since she isn't talking, I had her draw a number of pictures for me. They vary, but they do concern me on a number of levels."

"What do you mean?"

Dr. Herington hesitated, but her voice remained strong. "You told me what she did to that stuff bear…"

"Yeah."

She nodded as she pulled out a few pictures from a folder and handed them to him gently. He breezed through them, hardly concentrating on a single one. There were at least five, all varying from scribbles, to violent stick figures, to a cozy setting with trees. Other than black, the only color was red, and the talent was no better than a fourth grader.

As he examined the drawings, Dr. Herington continued on, "I believe that Emily feels that the torture must be carried on."

"What?" he asked, though on some level, he had already suspected it.

"I could be mistaken, but I _highly _recommend that you watch her carefully. And _please_," she almost begged, "hide all razors or anything else that could be used to inflict pain. In her medical file, her doctor wrote that she attempted suicide once –"

"We don't know that," Morgan cut in. "It could have been the unsub."

"I'm sorry?"

"The man who kidnapped them. Mills… he could have done it."

A grimace spread across her face, but still she did not back down on her decision. "Even so, I do recommend you watch her more carefully. Just take extra precaution with things that could be used to inflict pain. "

Morgan swallowed hard, hating himself that he had already done just that. "Okay," he forced out. "Is there anything else?"

Dr. Herington frowned, sensing that Morgan was ready to get out. "Yes, just one more thing. There's one or two drawings in particular that has me especially on the edge…"

She flipped through a couple more pictures before pulling out one in particular. It was the drawing with the cozy trees, but he had completely overlooked the scene going on at the bottom. The color red poured from a stick figure's body that had to be Em,ily, and she wore X's for eyes, which made Morgan's stomach twist and turn. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to rid himself of his earlier meal. These drawings were driving him to insanity. For months, he had wanted to know what had happened to them, but looking at these drawings now, he suddenly wasn't so sure.

"Do you recognize this man?" she asked, snapping him back into reality and pointing to a freakishly tall, skinny stick figure, who was holding the gun that had killed Emily's replica drawing.

Morgan bit his lip, debating if he should tell Dr. Herington of his suspicion. He knew what Mills looked like and that definitely wasn't Mills. There was only one other man he knew who was that skinny, but still, it baffled him to no end. "It looks like Reid, but it could be Mills as well."

"Reid? The one who was also held captive?"

"Yeah, I'm bringing him in on Friday."

"Can you think of why Emily would draw him killing her?" she asked softly.

"I…no. Reid wouldn't hurt Emily," he argued. "He hasn't left her side since the kidnapping. The only reason he's not here now is because I forced him to stay home with my friends."

Dr Herington nodded, but the profile in Morgan told him that she didn't quite agree. "You don't think Reid would want to inflict pain on Emily…do you?"

Morgan shook his head violently. "No. He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't hurt her. I'd bet my life on that one."

The sigh she let out told him she wasn't going to argue with that and without hesitation, she moved on. "Okay, and there's one more drawing." Again, she flipped through the pages until she found the one she was looking for. When she handed it to him, it was an understatement to say he was disturbed by it. Never had he thought _he_ would make Emily's drawings.

"Is that me?" he asked pointing to the only brown stick-figure in the drawing. He was buried under the ground with X's over his eyes, just like Emily's stick figure replica had been, but it wasn't him dying that sent him into a world of hysterics. It was actually the cruel, crimson letters written next to his stick body that put him at edge. The letters were barely legible, but it didn't take a genius to see that they spelt demon.

**7**

_It was dark. So utterly dark. And Emily wasn't here with him. No, this time he was facing his fears alone. In the dark, which he hated above all his fears. But the drug, though he hated to say it, was helping. It sent him into a land of bliss, a land he didn't care what was going on around him. In this world, a calmness he had never known existed washed over him. However, when that drug wore off, it was a living hell. He began to shake, he began to cry, he began to crave it, so he called out for Mills. Anything for the drug to ease his state of mind. But Mills did not come. _

_And he wouldn't. Not for seven days. _

_Or so Reid thought._

_He came back in seven hours and again, Mills pierced a needle into his skin. It wasn't long before Reid was back in that land of carelessness again, and when he came out of it, it was pure agony. Nothing made sense, he wanted to cry, to scream. He shook, his breathing grew erratic. He knew the side effects, the withdraw symptoms: severe anxiety, sweating, vomiting, restless sleep, weakness, tremors, delusions. And dear God, he was experiencing all of them. Every single one. He needed that drug now. Craved it, but this time Mills did not come back. At least not for seven days._

"_Have you seen God yet?" Mills asked him when that week was up._

_Reid spat from where he laid on the dusty floor. His lips were cracked, his eyes were blood shot, he was hungry and thirsty, but still he did not change his mind, he did not give in. Even though he so desperately wanted that drug, he thought of Emily, which made him that much stronger. "Go to hell." _

"_So be it." _

_Mills shut the door, and sat there, alone, lost, and dejected from the world outside. He laid there until he lost himself completely._


	10. Chapter 10

**That was not a happy response. You guys make me feel like I'm doing something wrong. Does no one like this story anymore? =( **

**well, anywho, sorry I haven't updated in a long time. I was really busy with school and frienddrama and I sorta kinda lost inspiration... but I found some to write this chapter, so here it is. Again, sorry it took so long. **

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**--Seven--**

**Chapter 10**

_Morgan blinked in rapid succession as he put a hand up to shield his eyes from the stinging glare of the sudden flood of overhead lights. When his vision finally cleared, he could see Hotch framed in the doorway, his hand still resting on the light switch. Like always, there was a frown on his face, but there was something about that infamous glare that had changed over the past two months. A sadness was there, something that made it impossible to look him in the eye. However, despite that sad-eye frown, there was no doubt that Hotch wasn't happy to see him there alone. _

"_Security contacted me about suspicious activity," Hotch informed him crisply. "You do realize that it's past two o'clock in the morning," he added rhetorically, when he didn't immediately receive an answer._

_Morgan bent over at the waist and picked up a laminated I.D. badge from the blotter for inspection. "I have authority."_

"_Not tomorrow." _

"_I'm not going," Morgan grumbled. _

"_We've out stayed our welcome here. They believe the case has gone cold and it has. The plane leaves tomorrow, Morgan."_

"_Fuck you," Morgan slurred. _

_Hotch narrowed his eyes. "You've been drinking." It was a statement, not a question. _

"_What do you care. You don't give a shit anyway." __Morgan stood, pushing the chair back noisily, as he tipped and consumed what was left of his beer. _

"_It's too late for this conversation. We'll talk in the morning on the plane." _

"_I'm not going," Morgan insisted. _

"_We aren't leaving them, Morgan." Even as he said it, they both knew that it wasn't true. It was just one of those translucent lies, told solely for the sake of propriety. "It has been two months, Morgan," Hotch told him gently. "Do you know the chances of finding them?" _

"_We have seven months. There's still time."_

"_We won't stop looking. Strauss wants us home tomorrow and JJ really needs to get back before she can't fly anymore. And Garcia will be able to work better at home with the technology she's familiar with. We can still work on this case, but we just have to go home. I don't want to leave anymore than you do." _

"_No."_

"_Morgan…"_

"_What the hell do you want from me anyway, Hotch?" The anger was fueled by alcohol, guilt, and a whole lot of regret._

"_I just want things to be the way they were."_

"_Nothing is ever going to be the way it was – not until we get them back again."_

"_I know," Hotch stated calmly. "I miss them too. And we _will _find them, Morgan. Jessica, one of the head officers here, promised that she wouldn't stop searching. We have no leads, but when we do, we will come back. I can promise you that." _

"_I'll think about it," Morgan said. _

"_The plane leaves at seven," Hotch told him. _

_Morgan glared at him. "That's not funny." _

"_For as long as you've known me, when have I ever been funny?" _

_A ghost of a smile pulled at the corner of Morgan's lips, but it was forced, it was fake. "Yeah, I guess you're right. But Hotch, I'm coming back. You can count on it." _

"_And we'll join you. You can count on that. Now please get some sleep." With those words said, Hotch turned on his heel. He was practically out the door when Morgan spoke so softly, he hadn't heard him at all. "I'm sorry?" he asked, stepping back into the room and glancing at Morgan with a look of concern. _

"_She called me," Morgan admitted louder this time. "Emily called me and I didn't pick up. Rossi and I were interviewing one of the victim's family's and I thought it could wait." _

_Hotch let out a sigh before loosening his tie and collapsing in a dismantled clump next to Morgan on the couch. "I blame myself –"_

"_Hotch…"_

"_No, let me finish," he insisted and when Morgan nodded, Hotch continued. "I thought Reid's idea was stupid, but I knew he was trying so hard to just get it right. He was so sure those tattoos held the answer and I just didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise. He was just getting his life back together since Tobias and I didn't want to be the one to rain on his parade. Emily noticed it too, so I told her to keep a close eye on him. That's why she went with him that day, Morgan. I told her to keep a close eye on him and she did. If I hadn't told her that, she might not have gone with him, or if I would have just told Reid the truth, everything would have turned out differently." _

_"It's not your fault, man."_

"_And it isn't yours either," Hotch pressed. "Nor is it Rossi's or JJ's or Garcia's." _

_Only now did Morgan's eyes narrow suspiciously. "What's your point, Hotch?" _

"_Rossi thinks it's his fault because Emily went with Reid, instead of him. JJ believes that this is her doing because she picked this case when she could have sent them to Colorado instead. She also thinks that it's her fault we are leaving so soon because of her pregnancy. Garcia thinks she should have found some sort of trace, when there was none. She believes she has failed."_

"_This is bull –"_

"_It's not Morgan. You have to see that this isn't your fault. It's nobody's fault. Things just play out in a certain way and you can't change fate. I learned a long time ago that you can't change that, no matter how hard you try." _

_Morgan's gaze remained straight ahead, but Hotch knew he was crying. "It's killing me… knowing what's happening to them and I can't do anything to stop it. I've never felt so useless before. It's hell."_

"_That's the thing about this job," Hotch told him honestly. "Hell will always be there, scrapping you in the back of your heals, no mater how fast you run. You can't run from it. It'll always be right behind you and sometimes, when you least expect it, it catches you." _

"_I know. I've tried." _

"_Me too." _

_There was a beat of silence. "Hotch?"_

"_Yeah?" _

_Morgan gave him a weak smile. "Thanks."_

_Hotch nodded, returning the gesture. "No problem, and Morgan…we will find them."_

_And they sat in silence. Staring off into space, thinking about their friends, thinking about nothing, and when Morgan offered Hotch a beer, he took it, because God, he just needed to let go. He needed to forget. So they sat there, drinking in silence and drowning in their sorrows slowly. _

_**7**_

_For some, there is always that moment before you wake from a dream that you exist both there and in reality. The moment Reid felt this, a binding fear he had come to grown familiar with, washed over him. But no matter how hard he tried to open his heavy eyelids, they wouldn't seem to budge. It wasn't until he felt the water trickling through his cracked lips, did he realize how thirsty he was. And with the water, along came his senses and his touch and the pain. Everything was slowly returning and he found himself wondering how long it had been. _

"_Have you seen God yet, Boy?" A deep-set voice asked. _

_And because he couldn't take the darkness or the withdraw any longer, he rasped out, "Yes. I saw him. I saw God." _

_**7**_

Morgan waited to make his presence known, staying out of sight, but only long enough to determine the kid's state of mind. Reid sat with his back turned, half way out the window, inches away from a dangerous two-story high drop-off. There was no need to measure his sorrow, as it was plainly evident, even from a distance. But if Morgan tried, it would have to include the forlorn sound of lonely midnight tears, cried into a pillow. Reid's shoulders trembled as though they might break, and to be perfectly frank, Morgan was surprised those shoulders hadn't collapsed sooner. Even in his childhood Reid had carried the weight of more tragedies and anguish than one should rightfully witness. No one deserved to go through what Reid had gone through.

No one.

Sighing softly and emerging from cover, Morgan approached him cautiously and with considerable care. Dr. Herington told him to watch Emily for signs suicide, yet Reid was the one hanging halfway out a window. Even so, it didn't surprise him when Reid spoke, completely aware that he was there all along.

"The things he did to us…"

"Reid..."

"No. God, no. None of you have _any _idea what he put us through. What he made _me _do. You have no idea."

Morgan locked eyes with him before glancing behind him, wondering if Emily was all right by herself. "Then tell me, Reid. Help me understand."

"You don't want to. You don't want to know."

Sometimes, when you don't ask questions, it was not because you were afraid that someone would lie to your face, but because you were afraid they would tell you the truth. However, Morgan forced himself to push that thought behind him. "I do. God, I really do." But it was a lie, and even as the words left his mouth, they both knew it.

Reid's face took on an expression of pain as he held back tears. "I can't remember everything. It's all so hazy, but I have dreams…I dream…"

"What do you dream of?"

Slowly, as if he really wasn't sure, Reid glanced out the window and to the pavement below. "I'm scared, Morgan," Reid said as his head snapped back, showing Morgan that his eyes were now glistening with tears that refused to fall. "I'm so afraid."

Nodding softly, Morgan took a few steps further into the room, but still he wasn't within reaching distance. "I'm scared too. I've been scared for over half a year now." Morgan made sure his eyes never left Reid's as he said it. "You are not alone in this."

An expression Morgan had never seen before washed over Reid's eyes. They were rich, glossy, and just waiting to be shattered in a river of tears. "I've been…confused lately…I can't think straight. Everything is blurring together and I…I can't take it."

"Reid…" Morgan whispered, his voice a lot softer than he had intended.

"I didn't want to hurt her," Reid sobbed. "I don't want to hurt her. I don't…I really don't."

Something told him that Reid wouldn't jump, but he wasn't taking any chances. "Emily's fine. She's alive, Reid, and you are too. You can't just forget. It doesn't work like that. You and Emily will remember this forever, but you can and will recover. It just takes time and a little help. That's all."

"You call this coping," Reid spat at him, gesturing to himself and out the window. "Have you even _looked_ at Emily?"

"But you guys are alive," Morgan pressed, his voice remaining hopeful, because God, one of them had to be.

Reid's gazed traveled back outside the window, making him realize that perhaps he had said the wrong thing. "But we shouldn't be," Reid whispered. "I should die. Right now. It'll make everything go away."

"Don't you dare think that," Morgan scowled, but the tears threatening to fall made him less of a threat. "You hear me?"

"So many people will get hurt," Reid sobbed suddenly, causing Morgan to freeze in his tracks.

"No one's going to get hurt, Kid. Nobody."

"It's going to be my fault, but I can't… I _need _to. It has to be done."

Morgan took a few more steps closer until he was within reaching distance, but still, he did not pull Reid to safety. "I can help you, Reid. Everybody… we want to help you through this, but you have to let us in. Okay?"

"I'm so confused… so torn," Reid spoke, hardly audible. There was a new light in his eyes, a different type of insanity that Morgan was growing oddly familiar with. "I… I get confused. There will be times when I black out and I don't know if I'm back there or here. It happened yesterday when you took Emily to therapy. You can't say you understand, Morgan, because you don't."

The tears that Reid had been trying so hard to keep at bay were finally breaking through and Morgan found himself breaking with him. "You're right. I don't understand, but I can't unless you help me."

"I'm scared. The plan… the plan will start in four weeks. In a month and I…I'm not ready."

"Mills isn't coming back, Reid," Morgan told him, desperately forcing truth into those words. "I don't know what he told you or what he had planed for you guys at the end of seven months, but he's gone. He can't hurt you anymore. That plan no longer exists."

"No. He'll come back… He's coming, Morgan. God, he's coming… and I can't… I can't do it…" Reid's voice cracked as a gasp forced its way from the back of his throat until their was nothing but a heart shattering sob. "But…he says…it'll help Emily. That's what he tells me and you know what?"

Locking eyes with him, Morgan inhaled sharply. "What?"

"I believe him," Reid admitting sadly. "I think it will help."

Morgan pressed his lip in a fine line, and then slowly, he reached out to place a reassuring hand on Reid's shoulder. The air outside was freezing and Morgan could hear the wind howling from outside the window, yet there was something about it that comforted him.

"What will help her?"

"Mills can free her," Reid whispered.

"No. No he can't."

"Yes he can."

Morgan reached out and gripped Reid by the shoulders, forcing his friend to look him in the eye. "_He _did this to us, Reid. _He _hurt you. _He _hurt Emily –"

Reid frantically shook his head, cutting him off. "No. You got it so wrong, so wrong…_He _didn't hurt her. _He_ didn't hurt her."

"Then who did, Reid!?" Morgan shouted. "Because I don't know who else could have possibly –"

"I did! God, I did," Reid admitted, sobbing loudly. "I… I tortured her. Every seven days...I tortured her. I did that tattoo too and she just sat there. I was the one who gave her the needle so we could cut our wrists. Because I wanted to die and I wanted her to die with me. Can't you see, Morgan. _I _did it. It's my fault."

Morgan stared him down, not sure whether to believe him or not. There was a part of him that wanted to ignore it, but the other part of him knew it was true. As much as he hated it, everything made so much more sense. "But he made you do it, Reid. It's not your fault. You got to believe that. This is not your fault."

"I'm tired," Reid sobbed. "I'm so tired of fighting.

The statement scared Morgan so much he was afraid that Reid really would jump. "Now come on. Step away from the window. Please, just step away from the window."

"But Morgan… you don't understand…" Reid inhaled sharply and Morgan sensed that perhaps Reid was actually going to tell him something. "I…I can't remember after we…attempted suicide… I don't remember the last three months. There are bits and pieces, but it's all a blur… and I became somebody I wasn't." He locked eyes with Morgan then. "I'm afraid that I will turn back into that person again."

"We won't let you, Reid. I promise."

"No," Reid cried. "You can't promise that. You won't be able to."

"And why not?"

"Because it's not part of the plan."

"Kid…"

Reid inhaled sharply as he gripped a handful of his hair in his hands. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"What could you possibly be sorry for? You did nothing wrong," Morgan soothed.

And then suddenly, Reid was in his arms, clinging onto him for dear life and Morgan didn't dare let go. He held Reid close, glad that he hadn't jumped out the window instead, and then their bodies began to sway in a comforting motion. And as Morgan whispered words of courage and reassurance into Reid's ear, Morgan dared to let himself believe that everything would be okay.

"Morgan," Reid whispered into his ear suddenly, but he didn't pull back.

And for reasons unknown to him, his heart skipped a beat at the deep-set tone Reid had just used. "Yeah, Kid?" Morgan asked, just barely forcing out the words through gritted teeth.

"I'm sorry, Morgan," Reid whispered in a voice that wasn't his own. "I'm sorry that I picked you."

Morgan pulled back, meeting Reid's gaze. "Picked me for what?" When he got no answer, he gripped Reid by the shoulders. "Reid, picked me for what?"

But Reid just kept his gaze straight, refusing to answer.

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**Please tell me what you thought. It keeps me motivated and I have know idea what to write for the next chapter. **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/n: For this chapter, credit goes to "Seasons Without Sun, chapter 13" on the bones fandom. That chapter was breathtaking and the story is incredible, and that's what inspired me to write this story. **

**Thanks for your reviews! **

**Gah! I'm soooooooooooo sorry this took so long. I really Am. Hope it's okay. **

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**--Seven--**

**Chapter 11**

Morgan desperately tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes. The smell of pancakes woke him in the first place and for a moment, he feared that Reid was going to burn down his apartment. So swinging his legs over the bed and wearing nothing but a pair of fleece pajama pants, he made his way towards the kitchen.

"What'd do you mean you can't do it?"

The voice alone was enough to cause Morgan to freeze in his tracks. He never heard it before, yet it sounded so familiar. It was the second voice, however, that had him reaching for his gun that wasn't there.

"I'm sorry…I don't want to," Reid cried. "Please don't make me. _Please_."

As was custom, his heart began to beat staccato, like a rapid exchange of gun fire. There was no way in hell he'd be able to get his gun, which was locked up in a safe under his bed, and get into the kitchen in time to save Reid from whoever the hell was in there. So pulling on his best look of courage and going in with only his strength, he emerged around the corner, making his presence known. However, whatever the hell he had been expecting wasn't there.

Reid and Emily were the only ones in the room.

Sighing, he let his guard drop. They were just eating breakfast and as he suspected, the stove had been left on, so shooting Reid a knowing glare, he flicked off the switch. "What did I tell you about using the stove?"

He should have known Reid would have answered his rhetorical question. "That I shouldn't use it if you aren't here." Reid turned to look at him, and for the first time, Morgan noticed the heavy bags under the kid's eyes and the shakes that were pulsating through his body. "But you're here, so I figured it was okay," Reid added softly.

"I was asleep…" But Reid didn't seem to understand so Morgan elaborated, "Just don't use it unless I'm physically in the kitchen with you. Okay?" The closes thing he got to an answer was a shrug. Sighing, he let himself glance at Emily, who hadn't even touched her plate; Instead, her head was in her hands and she was swaying back and forth in a deeply unsettling motion. "Hey girl, you're not hungry?"

"She's not eating," Reid spoke for her.

"I can see that. Why?" Morgan reached over and shook her shoulder gently. That was all it took for her to leap into his lap and cling onto him for dear life. "Hey, hey, shhh," he soothed, catching her against his chest. Quickly, he directed his attention back to Reid. "What happened?" he asked sternly.

But Reid just stared straight ahead as if he wasn't the one connected with the world.

"...Reid…?"

Frantically, Reid's eyes darted around the room as if he didn't know where he was, but then they landed on Morgan and a calm washed over them. "I'm sorry?"

"Reid… who were you talking to before I came in," Morgan asked slowly.

But that just confused the poor kid even more. "I… I don't remember."

Morgan's glare hardened. "You don't remember," he said, disbelief etched into his voice.

There was a beat of silence then, a silence that seemed to last forever, but Reid managed to reach across it and break it. "The plan will start soon, Morgan."

Reid's comment had Emily grabbing onto him more, almost as if she were trying to disappear within him. Little things like this were beginning to happen more frequently and it had him worried that they weren't recovering at all. "Reid, there's is no damn plan. Okay?" But before Reid could reply to that, Emily broke off into hysterical screams, screams Morgan couldn't ignore. "We'll talk about this later, Reid. Okay?"

And knowing that there wouldn't be another conversation later, Morgan carried Emily out of the room, hoping to God that everything would be okay.

**_7_**

_There wasn't one specific element which startled Emily Prentiss from the false sanctuary of a dreamless sleep. Instead, it was a combination of outside influences; Like the strangeness of an unfamiliar mattress, the unending darkness, and the silence that never existed. She learned a long time ago that there was always something there, struggling to make its presence known. Like now. It only took her a split second to realize that she had company. As was customary, her heart began beating wildly in her chest. Forcing bravery upon herself, she studied her visitor intently, desperately tying to figure out the shape in the dark. _

_He sat cross-legged in front of her, dressed in a knitted cotton sweater and pants, and seemed to be patiently studying her in turn. A citrus smell or something of a fruity nature lingered in the air around him, making her realize he had been given a bath. And only when her eyes traveled down his figure to settle upon a pair of two different colored socks, did she let a calmness wash over her. _

_But still, it was too good to be true, which was why she didn't let her defensive stance drop. _

"_Reid?" she tried, but the word was never quite brought to life. It had been so long since she last used her voice she wondered if it would eventually shrivel up and dry away. Was there a natural selection involved in not speaking up? So she tried it again, this time forcing the word out from the bottom of her stomach, up her throat, and through her gritted teeth, which brought a new kind of emotional pain. _

"_Emily," he stated, his voice also strained, hardly recognizable. _

_If it wasn't so dark he would have seen the tears swelling up in her eyes, he would have seen the marks Mills bestowed on her body while he was gone. "What are you doing here?" she asked, forcing hatred into her voice, when really all she wanted to do was collapse in his arms._

_He crawled over to her until his knees were touching hers. "Emily…" he whispered as he reached up a shaking hand to touch her face. She grunted in pain when he gently brushed against one of her many bruises. "Sorry. I'm so sorry," he nearly cried. _

"_You're shaking," she noted. And because she didn't really believe that he was there with her, she reached out and intertwined her fingers with his. His hand was so warm, so sweaty, but it was enough for her to believe and throw herself into his arms. "Reid."_

"_Hey," he soothed as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. It had been so long since he had last seen her, last touched her. For a while, he was beginning to forget. Those drugs were turning his mind to mush, making everything just a distant blur. So now, with her in his arms, it was hard to believe that she was real and not just a misconception from the drug overdose. _

"_How long has it been?" she asked, her voice vague and muffled against his chest._

_He ran a hand up her back, feeling her bones and bruises beneath his fingers. "Four weeks." _

_God, it felt so much longer. _

_She was silent for an awfully long time. "Which means we've been missing for two months?" she asked him eventually. _

_He shrugged. "Give or take."_

"_Its been that long?"_

"_Did…did he hurt you?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. When she started to shake against him, his fears were confirmed. "How bad?" _

"_It's fine." _

"_It isn't." _

"_It's okay, Reid. It's okay." But her voice cracked, telling him that it wasn't. Not at all. "What can you do about it anyway?"_

"_Emily…"_

_And then she roughly pulled away from his grip, letting him see the new type of fire burning in her eyes. "Why are you here?" she repeated with the same venom that was blaring in her eyes._

_He scrambled to reach out and pull her back, but she continued to crawl back. She was the only thing keeping his sanity in place. If he lost her now, then he would lose himself to those drugs completely and there would be no coming back. Not this time.. "I…I wanted to see you," he told her softly._

"_And he let you?"_

"_He thinks I'm spying on you. I told him that I saw God who told me to keep a close eye on you... in case you try to escape," Reid admitted. She was silent again and h__e glanced down pointedly at her wrist. Even in the dark he could see the way she was obviously favoring it. "Did he do that?" _

"_The other night, or maybe it was the night before. I don't really remember," she answered, completely dazed._

_As it turned out, hell wasn't watching the people you love get hurt; it was coming in during the second act, when it was already too late to stop it from happening. But he had known this would happen from the moment they were separated from each other. He knew. God, he knew more than he wanted to know. But this was hell, and that was that. __So many people thought that there had to be fire and brimstone, but that was not the case at all. Hell was just the utter inability to take action. It was taking away your ability to do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. It was taking away everything that made you who you were, what made you human. That was the very worst punishment imaginable. _

"_I thought he comes every seven days?" he questioned._

"_Sometimes it's seven hours."_

_He inhaled sharply as a sudden wave of anxiety took hold of his body. He was experiencing those withdraw symptoms again, but he forced himself to remain on task. "__The violence has been escalating. Hasn't it?" _

_But she ignored him completely. "Reid," Emily stated suddenly, her voice cracking. "I was thinking…."_

"_Yeah?" he asked._

"_What would happen…if we died before seven months?" _

_Reid gave her an odd look. "That would never happen. He'll keep us alive. He's not going to kill us until seven months are up." _

_She looked him straight in the eye. "But hypothetically speaking, if I died... then he couldn't kill victim number six or seven. Right? The way his mind works… he couldn't move on unless he kills me first, but if I were to die without his help... he couldn't replace me. Right?"_

"_Yeah, but he's not going to kill us," he told her, exasperated. "Not yet anyway." _

"_He's not going to kill _you, _Reid," she spat suddenly, her voice considerably changing to hatred and neither could be sure as to why. "He's going to kill me. Not you. Me."_

"_You act like this is my fault," he shot back, but deep down he knew it was. When she didn't answer him, he felt a tug on his heart, bringing an emotional pain he didn't know existed. "Emily?" he asked, fear weaving its way into his voice. "You don't believe that, do you?"_

"_No." But she hesitated. God, she hesitated, which confirmed his fears. However, before he could call her out on it, she continued, "Reid, I'm serious. What if –_

"_I'm not going to watch you die." _

"_But we've been here for two months Reid. Two months," she argued, cried. "The team isn't coming –"_

"_No. No. They will. They'll come –"_

"_Not this time, Reid. They would have found us by now." _

"_They'll find us. I know they will." _

"_After Mills sends them a letter where to find our bodies," she argued, but her voice faltered, which was enough for the tears to come. "Do you want them to find us like that? With are bodies all mangled, hardly recognizable? Do you want that?"_

"_Stop." _

"_Or would you rather them not find us at all so they can at least have hope. I prefer that way, Reid. Don't you? I don't want them to remember us dead. I want them to remember us alive and well… Happy.."_

"_Stop it!" Reid shouted as he clamped his hands over his ears. "Why the hell do you want to die so bad?" _

"_Because," she choked out in a sob, "I… I can't take it anymore. The torture. The endless amounts of torture. It's never ending. It doesn't stop. I'll lose myself if it doesn't stop, Reid. Can't you see? I can't take it. I'm not strong enough. And the pain. God, the pain –"_

"_Emily…"_

"_I can't take it!." _

_She was sobbing now, heart wrenching sobs that tore him apart._ "_Stop. God, please stop."_

_Whereas before it had been melodious, now the sound of his voice grated on her raw nerves. She hadn't seen him for four weeks and now that he was finally here with her, it was enough for her to break, enough for her to break through the walls of her denial._

"_He's going to kill me, Reid! He's been killing me for days now!"_

"_Emily…"_

"_The first time… he suffocated me with a plastic bag."_

_He gripped at his hair, at the walls. He couldn't take this. He couldn't take the drugs, he couldn't take her pleas to make it stop. He was going insane and there was nothing he could do to stop it. "__No…"_

"_The second time, he used a garrote."_

_She viciously yanked down the collar of her tattered shirt. He could see the outline of angry red welts encircling her throat, where wire had been tightly wrapped around._

"_I understand now. Please stop."_

_But she couldn't stop. She couldn't. Now she understood the truth that she had been so desperately trying to avoid._ "_The third time… oh God, the third time…"_

"_That's enough."_

"_He takes me to the brink of death, and then he resuscitates me again. I don't want to come back, but he makes me. He makes me. And then… the next day, he kills me all over again. Only different… each time… it's different."_

"_Please," he begged, he cried. "Stop. I understand. I understand." _

"_And then he leaves me here alone and I have to wait…seven hours, seven days. I don't know, and not knowing is slowly killing me. I fall into an unwanted sleep. But it's not dreamless. God, it's not dreamless. I have been having nightmares where I'm cut into so many pieces that there isn't enough of me to put back together. Can't you see, Reid?!" _

_He shook his head violently. "No. I don't… I don't see."_

"_I'm not strong enough for this," she sobbed, crying so hard he could hardly understand her. She was breathing heavy, her heart was racing, and her body was shaking. "And then you'll have to do it. You'll have to do it to me the next time –"_

"_I won't."_

"_You will," she insisted. "You'll do it. He'll make you. We can't win, Reid. We can't win."_

"_They'll find us," he insisted. "They will. I know they will." _

"_And by that time we will be nothing but a shell, a husk. Empty inside. How will we recover from this? We know what he does to his victims, Reid… and I can't live through this if we survive. I can't. I'm not that strong. I can't heal. Not this time. Not this time." _

"_But you are. I know you are."_

"_I can't take it. I can't," she sobbed, shaking her head violently. "The first fortnight you were gone was fine, because he only came once a week. But, God, the second two weeks… the second two weeks he has been coming every seven hours. _Every _fucking seven hours." She pressed herself into the wall, trying to disappear within its artificial make-up. He wasn't sure whether she was even cognizant of her surroundings anymore. "I want to stay dead, Reid," she sobbed uncontrollably, as she finally revealed the horrible truth to him, to herself. "I just want to stay dead."_

"_But you can't, Emily. You have to know that. For the team… for me… you can't die. I won't let you die."_

"_But it's not your choice," she whispered, her voice suddenly calm, which frightened him more than her cries of help. __Slowly, she opened her hand to show him a V-shaped rock. One that had been rubbed raw, leaving a menacing point at the end. It wasn't much, but if you wanted to draw blood with it, you could. _

"_That won't kill you," he stated, but he knew that if she was that desperate, she could and would accomplish it._

"_Well, do you have anything better?" she snapped. _

_A cry escaped from the back of his throat, one he hadn't known he had been holding. "I can't watch you die, Emily. I just can't." But still, he produced the small weapon from his back pocket. _

"_Where did you get that?" she asked, as she reached for the needle in his hand. However, before she could take it, he grasped his fingers shut._

"_He gave it to me," he told her honestly. It had been for the drugs, and before she could ask why, he added, "It'll be easier than the rock." _

_She nodded, tears pouring from her eyes. "Can I have it, Reid? Please? Can I have the needle?"_

_There was a beat of silence, but to them it felt like a lifetime. A lifetime which Reid chose to break. "I'm afraid, Emily. I'm so afraid." _

_She bit her lip and blinked back tears. "Me too. Me too, Reid." _

"_We'll do it together," he insisted, building a confidence he didn't know he still had. _

"_But Reid, you don't have too. You're not the one he wants to –"_

_He cut her off, "We'll do it together." _

"_Reid…" she sobbed with relief, realizing that he had agreed to her simple wish. _

_He looked up to catch her gaze for what he believed was the last time. "Do you trust me?" _

"_I do. I trust you," she said, shaking with anticipation. _

"_Are you sure?" he asked, hoping that she had changed her mind, but at the same time wished she hadn't. He too wanted nothing more than the pain to stop. He just wanted to forget, and if dying was the only way to do it, then so be it._

_She inhaled sharply, making up her mind. "I'm sure. God, I'm so sure."_

"_Okay, Emily," he whispered as he handed her the needle. "Okay," _

_And then there came a moment, one exquisite moment, where they clutched at each others chest and made their everlasting scar across both of their wrists. They did this as the warm flow of blood seeped its way onto the floor around them. They did this until there was nothing left, until the pain no longer mattered, until finally they witnessed it first hand – that tiny loss of rhythm, that hollow calm, that utter loss._

_

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_

**Hope you enjoyed it... I'll try to update soon! **


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: So I'm officially the worst updater ever. Hahahaha I know it's been a year and I thank those of you who are still with me. I very much appreciate it! Also, I've made it a goal to finish this story. I actually have the whole thing written... I just need to make a few adjustments. So hopefully I can finally finish this story soon. **

**Well, I hope you enjoy**

**-Seven-**

**Chapter 12**

_His eyes opened slowly as he tried to focus on one thing. The darkness came first, then the smell of rain. It wasn't until a light flickered on did he realize he wasn't alone. Emily was tied to a chair and seemed to be half conscious. Only now could he see why she had so badly wanted to die. At that moment, a fear he had never known existed washed over him. He was going to do that to her. Just like she had said. Mills would make him hurt her and there was nothing he could do to stop it. _

"_Are you ready?" _

_Reid's head snapped in the direction of the deep-set voice. Mills had emerged from the darkest of shadows and was now standing behind Emily with a knife in his hand. With lingering eyes, Mills gently ran the knife lightly over Emily's skin. He did not cut her _

"_This demon tried to kill you and itself." _

_Because he knew better, he remained silent. Instead, he watched as Emily shook violently at the content of Mills hand on her shoulder. _

"_You both lost a lot of blood."_

_Tears welled up in Reid's eyes. "You weren't suppose to come for seven days...why?" He needed to know that this wasn't his fault, that he wasn't another disappointment._

"_I had a dream from God. He told me to go to you. Said you were dying."_

"_Why didn't you let her die?" Reid asked. His voice was so light, so harsh, so lost. He didn't recognize it. _

"_Because it doesn't work that way. Demons don't kill themselves. They just kill the host and move on to another soul. My guess is that she was trying to take over you." Mills smiled sadistically. "From now on you will no longer stay in her cell."_

"_But –"_

"_No. No buts," Mills cut him off. "You staying with her has already done enough damage. Look at what she did to you." _

_Reid found himself looking down at his bandaged wrists. "But I could spy…"_

"_And you failed," Mills informed him. "Besides… how will you ever learn if she's contradicting everything I say? Your training beings today."_

_Reid inhaled sharply as violently shakes began to take hold of him. And then suddenly, Mills was in front of him, pulling him into a hug. A hug Reid accepted because, God, he just needed to feel something that was real, to make sure that this wasn't alseep. So he clung onto Mills for dear life. It was that exact moment he made up his mind that he couldn't do this. _

_Not anymore. _

"_I'm scared." _

"_You're shaking," Mills said, pulling away. "Do you want me to make it stop?" _

_Reid's eye traveled to the needle that was now in Mills hand. The drug he had come to know was just inches away and his heart beat erratically at the thought. He wanted it now. He needed it. If just to forget, if just to let go. But what about Emily? What could erase her pain? Her memories? But those thoughts were soon pushed to the back of his mind when he felt the needle pierce his skin. However, Mills hadn't given him enough to send him into the world he so desperately wanted to be right now._

"_There… that should make it better." _

_Reid's head slumped against Mills shoulder. He was thirsty, so tired, so hungry. He wanted nothing more than to just lose himself with those drugs, but he forced himself to remain on task. _

"_Are you ready, Boy? We start now."_

_His eyes drifted over to Emily, who was just barely coming to her senses. She sat there, limped in her chair and almost dejected from the world. "Can I have more…?"_

"_After we're done here." _

_Reid began to cry again. "I can't… I can't…"_

"_But you can," Mills urged. "You can because this is your fate. This is your job. Are you ready?" _

_Reid felt his pulse begin to race. Then, like so many times he had seen his mother do, he began to push. He pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind until they were nothing but distance memories. A long with those memories, he pushed back the pain and anxiety. He pushed until he destroyed everything that made him Spencer Reid, the strong, smart agent his friends adored. He pushed until he needed to be the person Mills wanted him to become because, God, there was no way he'd be able to do this by just being Spencer. _

_**7**_

Morgan usually regarded an unexpected knock at the door in the middle of the night as a precursor to danger. Naturally switching to standard FBI procedure, his one hand shot to the butt of his service weapon. He peered cautiously through the keyhole. Sighing inwardly, he unlatched the multiple locks he had installed and cracked the door open by barely an inch. He knew exactly what she was here for, but there was_ nothing_ that was going to change his mind.

Including her.

Garcia stood on the threshold with her head bowed, and an uncharacteristic frown marring her normally animated features. She had aged the equivalent of ten years over the past few months, as they all had. Sighing deeply, Morgan dropped his head wearily against the door, unwilling and unable to go another round tonight.

"It's a mistake, Morgan," she said upon seeing him.

"It'll help."

She turned to face him again. "It's not too late to change your mind."

Morgan scrubbed both hands vigorously over his face, a two-day growth of stubble catching roughly under calloused fingers. When your whole world seemingly crumbles overnight, routine grooming habits were the first to be sacrificed. "We've been through this, Baby-girl. In the event of diminished mental capacity, her living will dictated me her sole guardian. Her mother has upheld my right to make these decisions for her."

"It has only been five weeks, they're not ready."

"Do you know how long they were held captive? Five months and three weeks. That's almost six months. Do you know how much can happen in six months?"

Garcia turned her head. "I'd rather –"

"Six month is enough to lose yourself, Baby-girl."

"And they've been home for only four weeks," Garcia shot back. "That is not enough time to recover."

But Morgan held is ground. "But in a week it'll be seven months for them. If we hadn't found them, _he _would have killed them. I'm afraid if I _don't _bring them back, it'll send Emily _and _Reid into a down spiral even more."

"You can't be serious," she told him flat out.

"I am."

"Did you even ask them?" Garcia yelled, raising her voice. "How do they feel about going back?"

"_Reid _is the one who wants to go back," Morgan snapped. "For the past month he's been screaming about this plan and how Mills is going to physically come here and finish off what he started. Can't you see Garcia? I_ have_ to take them back. I have to show them that nothing is going to hurt them anymore. I have to show them that." Morgan locked eyes with her, daring her to argue with that.

Garcia remained silent for an awfully long time. "Morgan, what if this doesn't work? What if this just makes it worse?" Garcia looked away to hide her tears. After all, that was a sign of weakness, and she was too mad at him to let her see her in that state. "What…what if Reid goes into the same state Emily's in…I can't lose them both… I just…" Her voice cracked then which was enough for those tears to fall and enough for Morgan to pull her into a hug.

"Hey, shh, Baby-girl," Morgan whispered in her ear. "Shhh. Everything is going to be okay. You'll see."

Garcia pulled away from him. "You don't know that."

"What if it makes them better? I'm trying to save them, Garcia. I know Emily's still in there somewhere. I think her mind is still back in Minnesota, back in that cell. This could wake her up."

She inhaled sharply. "He's still out there, Morgan. He's still out there and that's what scares me."

Morgan sighed. "I know, Baby-Girl. It scares me too," he whispered as he rubbed her arm gently.

"Just promise me one thing…"

"If I can."

"If they're ever in danger, real danger, you'll bring her back home. It may be selfish on my part, but I'd rather have what's left of them alive, than nothing at all."

"I promise."

Garcia nodded and a silence washed over them. It was well past midnight but neither moved from his door. As far as Garcia was concerned, she didn't want to go inside. She knew once she saw the friends she had lost she would lose it completely

"When are you leaving?" she asked subconsciously.

"Tomorrow."

A dark shadow crossed over Garcia's face, defiant and angry. "_Tomorrow_? Morgan you just told us a couple of days ago! How are we suppose to help if you…"

Garcia's voice dropped off without finishing the thought. She was no longer actively listening, and her stare was fixated on something directly over his head. Morgan turned quickly to find Emily standing immobile behind them. She was wearing his clothes, something that she was doing more frequent lately, and her hair was still damp in places from her bath. There was no way to discern just how long she had been there, or what she might have overheard.

Not that it really mattered

"Hey, Em…what are you doing up?" Morgan asked softly.

As always, he prepared himself for her lack of answer, but exactly the opposite happened. When her face crumbled and shakes began to take hold of her body, Morgan was more than surprised. However, he was instantly by her side to wipe away her tears… even if he was somewhat thrilled to see her showing _some _emotion.

"Hey, shhhh," Morgan soothed as he wrapped his arms around her. "Em what's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?" He felt as if he was questioning a deaf child. He got absolutely nothing from her, so he pulled her back into a comforting hug instead. "Everything is going to be alright, Em. You'll see. It's going to be okay."

"Is it?"

His head snapped back to Garcia. She was still standing in the doorway, refusing to come in. A cross between anger and worry was painted on her face. "Is it, Morgan?" she repeated, a little louder this time.

He hated seeing her like this, hated what she was doing to him. "Garcia…"

"Don't take them there, Morgan. Please," she cried just barely above a whisper. "Something bad is going to happen. I can…I can feel it. Please don't do it… I don't want to lose them."

Morgan inhaled sharply and pulled Emily closer before giving Garcia a sad eye frown. "I'm so sorry, Baby-Girl. I have to."

And before the words even left his mouth Garcia had already disappeared out the door.

**7**

_Emily sat in a chair limped and completely exhausted. There were no more tears to shed, no more sadness. There were only screams, only blood, and only her. How many months had it been? Three? Two? Four? Or was this her final month to live? Time seemed completely irrelevant when you were waiting to die. Was he going to kill her… or better yet was he going to make Reid do it? No, she thought, her mind shaking violently inside her skull. _

_Correction._

_It wasn't Reid who was doing this to her now, but someone else entirely. Sure, it looked like him, sounded like him, but it wasn't really him. The man standing before her wasn't the Spencer Reid she use to laugh and joke with at the BAU. This wasn't the boy genius who listed off statistics when he had nothing else to say. No. This man was someone else entirely. _

_This was a monster Mills had created. _

_Reid had lost himself to the darkness and she was actually jealous of him. It was a place she so desperately wished she could go. To just forget, to not care. He wasn't the one who had to withstand this pain, this torture, this nightmare. She couldn't deal with this… not anymore, yet she still had hope. She had hope that Reid would wake up from whoever – or whatever - had consumed him. She had hope that the team would find them. She had hope that they'd be okay. She had hope…._

_Hope. _

_But hope could only last for so long. Then what? She'd be nothing. She'd be dead, gone. _

_And nobody would find her._

_Nobody would care._

_Hope._

_Fuck hope. _

"_One more round for today," she vaguely heard someone order from behind her. _

_It didn't take long for her hearing to become almost nonexistent. Not that she needed to hear to drown in her own consciousness. _

_She could barely left her head, move a limb. Everything hurt, but by now, pain had become such a customary thing for her, she hardly felt anything at all. She was just an empty shell waiting to break, waiting to forget. _

"_Okay," she heard Reid say darkly. "Now what?" _

"_Her nails," Mills told him smoothly, softly. "Force them off." _

_She choked out a sob, a plea, but nothing came out. She tried again, but there was only silence. She hadn't talked in such a long time, she wondered if she had lost her voice completely. It was illogical, she knew, but she had been cramped down here for so long, she was pretty sure she was far past the point of understanding._

_Reid knelt down in front of her then with a pair of pliers. Acting on instinct, she clamped her hands into a fist so the tips of her fingers were hidden beneath her palm. However, he just roughly grabbed her wrist, prying her hand open. Violent spasms took hold of her body as he laid her hand flat for preparation._

"_Reid," she forced out. _

_She didn't recognize her voice. It had been weeks - or had it been months - since they last cut their wrist. That was the only thing she regretted… not succeeding with such a simple task. But it had been the last time she had spoken to him. It had been the last time she saw the Spencer Reid she knew._

_Screw him. _

_He had left her. Completely and utterly left her. She was the one who wanted to die. She was the one who had lost hope. So why was she still trying to hold onto it? _

_She didn't like this stranger standing before her now._

"_Reid," she tried again, but it didn't come out much louder. "Please don't. Please." _

_But he didn't even flinch at her pleas. He use to. But not anymore. Now the only emotion he showed was stiffness. Without looking her in the eye, he reached over for a medical instrument unknown to her. _

"_Eleven," she cried out, pulling one of the last memories she had with the team from the back of her mind. "Eleven. Make a wish, Reid. Make a wish," she sobbed, anything to make him stop. "Make a wish. It's eleven eleven. Make a wish….make a…." _

_He looked up at her then and her heart skipped a beat. _

_Maybe there was still hope. _

_For a moment she thought she saw recognition in his eyes, but as quickly as it came, it left. He was gone and there was nothing she could do about it. That little ounce of hope she had before was gone now. She lost him to Mills, which was enough to make her realize that the only future she had was death itself. So crying one last time, she shut herself off from the world, just like Reid had, because there was no way she could do this alone. _

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_**Hope you guys enjoyed it! I think I have about seven or six more chapters left and the story will be finished. I'll post the next chapter soon. (I promise it won't be another year hahahaha) Question though because I have all the chapters written but I need more for chapter 14. Is there anything that you'd like answered or are confused about? Maybe I can answer it in that chapter.**_


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Here's the next chapter! Hope you enjoy**

**-Seven-**

**Chapter 13**

_The environment wasn't nearly welcoming enough to be mistaken for a home, more like a cheap drug-induced hallucination, but to one it had become just that. The old musty basement with its maze like layout and crumbling walls had once been the outcropping of an abandoned and decaying building. Now, however, it had become a new kind of hell. The walls cracked from under the concrete's weight, the floor boards gave way with every step, and the rooms held the secrets of what had happened there. It was as though the earth was steadily eating away at the flesh from underneath, digesting it bite by bite. Five months had been all it took to break, to remember, to forget, to turn this living hell into a home._

"_When?" _

_Mills hardly spared a glance at his son, who was standing before him dressed and ready to learn. He was always so eager. Mills knew that he had taught him well. "It hasn't been seven days yet." _

"_No. When will my training stop?" The boy asked, his tone neglected of any emotions at all. _

_Smiling softly, Mills walked over to the boy until they were nearly touching shoulders. "I'm proud of you, Son." And he was, he really was. The boy had overcome so much these past five months. He didn't even need the drugs anymore to stay stable, something that had happened a lot sooner than anticipated. "You've been here for almost five months now."_

_The boy looked confused. He did not remember his first two months there at all. It was a complete mystery on how he came to live there, but that mattered little to him. He just woke up one day and he knew he was safe. "I thought it was only three?" _

"_Maybe mentally you've been with me for three months, but physically you've been here for five." Mills smiled at him they way a father would to his son. "You are almost finished."_

"_But when?" _

"_Two more sinners. Once this masterpiece is complete your training will end and your job will start. Do you understand?"_

"_I understand. What about Lucifer? When will it die?" _

_Mills eyes grew sinister as a calm washed over the kid's face. "Soon. Very soon." _

"_Will the girl die?"_

"_They normally do."_

"_I promised her I would set her free," he admitted after a moment of silence. _

_Mills frowned. "You shouldn't make promises you can't keep."_

"_But I want to save her," he insisted. "I think I can. I just…"_

"_That's enough," Mills cut in, anger evident in his voice. He paused before changing the subject entirely. "They're getting closer."_

"_Won't the storm slow them down?"_

_Evidently satisfied as to the boy's willingness, Mills nodded sternly. __"I doubt it." A pause, then a crooked grin. "I think it's time you've heard my plan." _

_**7**_

So far the plane ride had been uneventful. A flash of Morgan's FBI badge had afforded them plenty of space, away from other passengers. Emily and Reid didn't take too well to strangers anymore, and 35,000 feet in the air wasn't the ideal setting for a mental breakdown. Thankfully, Emily had slept for nearly the entire flight, even without the aid of medication, which he had packed just in case. In fact, sleep seemed to be her newly acquired pastime lately, which was in reality a blessing for both of them.

Reid, on the other hand, was a complete different story.

For most of the flight he had remained relatively quiet, but now that they were getting closer to their destination, Reid had begun to whisper continuously under his breath. It earned them uneasy glances from the passengers around them. Morgan feared that his good fortune was finally coming to an end.

"_7…8…2…4…7…8…2…"_

"Reid," Morgan whispered softly, so as not to disturb him.

He did anyway.

Reid's eyes darted around frantically, but then they landed on Morgan and a calm washed over them. "I'm sorry? Are we there yet? Are we landing because I –"

"Hey, Kid," Morgan cut in quickly. "Calm down. It's okay. We won't land for awhile longer. Okay?"

"…Okay…"

Reid began to tap his finger on the hand rest. Morgan sighed when he realized there was a pause between every seven taps. "You okay Kid?" Morgan asked. Reid didn't stop tapping. "Reid?"

"The total number of kidnappings that are reported ranges from 12.500 to 25,500 every year." He looked at him with a dull, vacant, emotionless gaze. He tapped another seven times. "It is also estimated that this is only one tenth of the actual number of kidnappings."

"Reid…"

Slowly, Reid turned to look at him, and Morgan couldn't help but wonder if something was off. "Do you believe that people can change, Morgan?"

The tapping stopped as Reid awaited an answer. An answer Morgan really didn't know how to give.

"I think it depends on the person," he told him eventually and honestly.

"…and what happens to them?"

A frown graced over Morgan's normally animated features. "You will be okay, Reid. You and Emily both will."

Reid gave a slight nod before tapping again. "When I was younger… do you know what I use to do?"

Morgan hesitated. "No…No…I don't."

"We played a game." Reid smiled oddly at him. "The "victim" would close their eyes and the other person would pound on their back while they chanted."

A dazed look washed over Reid's eyes and in a soft, menacing voice he began to speak.

"_Concentrate, concentrate. People are dying, children are crying. Concentrate, concentrate.  
There's an egg on your head, feel the yolk running down, and the yolk running down, and the yolk running down. There's an egg on your head, feel the yolk running down, and the yolk running down, and the yolk running down."_

Morgan recognized it as an old child's rhyme. He remembered some of his childhood friends doing this when he was younger. However, he didn't remember it sounding so creepy, so wrong.

_"Concentrate, concentrate. People are dying, children are crying. Concentrate, concentrate. There's a knife in your back, feel the blood running down, and the blood running down, and the blood running down. There's a knife in your back, feel the blood running down, and the blood running down, and the blood running down."_

They were getting weird looks again from the other passengers. "Reid," Morgan cut in, but Reid ignored him.

_"Concentrate, concentrate. People are dying, children are crying. Concentrate, concentrate." _Reid paused. When he began again, he replaced his chanting with a soft whisper. "You're on top of a tall building. You look off the edge and feel dizzy—it's a long way down and it's cold. It's so, so cold. You hold your jacket tighter…tighter. _"Concentrate, concentrate. People are dying, children are – BOOM!" _Reid shouted, making Morgan and others around them jump.

"Reid," Morgan snapped somewhat harshly. The last thing he needed was to start a commotion. "Let's talk about something else. Okay?"

"I saw the color red," Reid blurted out.

"What?"

Reid didn't blink. "When I was pushed at the end of the game…. I saw red."

It took Morgan a moment to remember. In the game one person was suppose to push the other, who was then suppose to see a color. Morgan, for the life of him, couldn't remember what the colors meant.

"It means I'm going straight to hell," Reid informed him.

Morgan frowned. He didn't like this game. "Reid….you know that's not true."

But Reid just returned his gaze to the window. He didn't make another noise for the rest of the flight.

**7**

_Tired. He was so tired. Every ounce of energy and strength he possessed had been spent in favor of survival. While exhausted, he was still determined nonetheless to push his logical mind past the point of suffering a man could bear. He could beat this. They would find him. If only he could ward off the darkness fighting to overtake him just a little bit longer If only he could keep on breathing, no matter how ragged the intake sounded, no matter how his battered chest ached with every rise and fall. He just needed to try and fight to keep his head cool._

_But he didn't even know where he was or where Emily was for that matter. Everything was so dark, so utterly dark. He wondered if anybody was coming at all. __He felt lost and confused. The number 7824 was trapped in his head for reasons unknown to him, and no matter how hard he tried the number would not leave his head. It was as if someone had opened his brain, stole a piece of his memory and replaced it with someone else's._

_His mind was splitting. He was literally going insane and he was going to die that way. _

_Yes, he knew now… he knew the terrible truth. _

_A part of Mills was taking over him and there was nothing he could do to stop it._

_Just like Emily had predicted. _

**-7-**

Reid awoke with a start, panting and sweaty. Five months ago he might have screamed, might have cried out in the night; however, he learned a long time ago to keep silent. For the last couple of months he had programmed himself to not make a sound. Especially in the night, where there was a chance of waking Mills. At first, he wasn't sure what had startled him from his dreamless sleep. It could have been a number of things; like Morgan's obnoxious snoring, or the fact that Emily was wide awake and hovering by the window humming, or it even could have been the flashing blood red strobe of a vacancy sign by the motel's roadside entrance.

Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, he grabbed his t-shirt from the back of a chair, and shrugged it over his head. Barefooted, wearing only a t-shirt and a pair of blue boxers, he headed over to Emily and sat down next to her. She was humming a tune he couldn't quite place, something that reminded him of his childhood. Sighing, he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, which caused her to freeze. At first, she tensed up, but then her eyes slowly drifted up to catch his gaze and she relaxed.

It was the first reaction he had really seen from her in a long, long time.

"Emily," he whispered, running his fingers through her hair.

She gave no sign that she understood him. Instead, she turned to stare blankly out the window.

He smiled suddenly as if he had just remembered a lost but cherished memory of the past. "You know how every now and then you have a moment where your whole life stretches out ahead of you like a forked road? And even as you choose one gritty path, you've got your eyes on the other the whole time, certain that you're making a mistake."

He wasn't sure why he was explaining this to her. It's not like she was listening to him. Maybe he needed to hear his own apology. Maybe he just wanted redemption. "And as soon as you took that path you knew the damage would be permanent. There would always be scars." A tear escaped his left eye. "But the angriest scars will fade over time until they are difficult to see written on the skin at all, and the only thing that will remain is the memory of how painful it had been."

"You make yourself strong because it's expected of you. You become confident because someone beside you is unsure. You turn into the person others need you to be." He choked back a sob. "Emily, I…am sorry. I am so sorry."

And then Emily did the most remarkable thing. She reached out and wiped a tear from his eye. He smiled at her touch. Gently, he took her hand in his and kissed it. "The truth doesn't always set you free," he whispered to her and only her. "People prefer to believe prettier, neatly wrapped lies. But I know I'll have to face the truth. We both will."

He took a deep breath.

"I've lost myself already, but you don't have to. I will set you free, Emily… Even if it means the unthinkable. But a promise is a promise." He meant this in more than just one way, and when he locked eyes with her then, he knew that was she understood. "I am sorry I've caused you so much pain. I'm sorry for everything."

He cried softly into her shoulder. When he finally composed himself a few moments later, he inhaled sharply and pushed away all of his fears. It was time to finish this. "We finally made it back." He gave her a sad-eyed grin. "The plan will start soon."

She began to shake so violently that he feared she'd wake up Morgan and ruin everything he had worked for. Blinking back tears, he pulled her into a hug and breathed in the scent of her.

"Hey," he soothed. "It's going to be okay. It'll be okay. I promise. You'll see… you'll see…"

When she finally relaxed under his grip, he reached into his pocket and pulled out Morgan's cell phone. Even in the dim moonlight he could see the way his hands violently shook. He knew the number by heart, couldn't have forgotten it if he tried, and yet he wanted it to stop, he wanted to put down the phone and end it right then and there. However, a greater force overcame him and he unwillingly found himself pushing in the first six digits, then finally 7824 to finish off the number.

When the all too familiar voice picked up on the other side, he found himself morphing back into that place and person he so desperately didn't want to be. "We're here," he spoke in a voice unlike his own.

"The plan will now start."

And the line went dead.

**-7-**

_It had been the third house Emily and Reid had interviewed. From the moment they got the lead, Morgan knew he would never forgive himself. During the first week of the disappearance, the team had questioned every house on the list Emily and Reid supposedly had gone. When they reached the third house on the list, the owner, a Gregory Mills, had told him they hadn't stop by. The man didn't even know what they were talking about. However, Gregory offered assistance to the case. He even let them into his house. _

_Nothing had seemed out of place. The guy was perfectly normal. He didn't look like a killer. Blonde hair, green eyes, tall and just…normal. There was no reason to suspect him. After all, their profile had pegged the unsub as a paranoid and shy loner, someone who wouldn't put himself out there. However, Gregory had told them stories, fed them information about the town and the people living in it. He had told them everything they had needed to know. There had been so much truth in his eyes. _

_But it was all a lie. _

_Everything. _

_Five months, two weeks, and four days after the disappearance they had received a call from the head officer on Emily and Reid's whereabouts. They had finally found a lead. After all this time, they had found something before seven months. _

_There was still hope. _

_A group of teenagers had found a body buried in the woods. The man had been dead for over twenty-one years. The police had identified him as Gregory Mills. _

_He had gluttony written on his wrist. _

_As soon as they had gotten word, they knew. How long had this man been under a false identity? They didn't even know his real name or who he was. They only knew him as Gregory Mills. But the real Mills was dead and had been for a decade. So many unanswered questions raced through their minds. How? When? Could they have saved Emily and Reid sooner? Why hadn't they known? Was it fate? Who was to blame when everything went wrong?_

_And Morgan would have to live with that fact. They had been in his fucking house. They could have saved Reid and Emily right then and there, they could have ended their nightmare if they would have just opened their eyes and looked. _

_Then what felt like an eternity, they were finally back at the scene of the crime, but this time they were being accompanied by a SWAT team. It was dark, it was cold, and a blizzard was about to set in. Gregory Mills's house was the perfect location for a crime. _

_They should have known. _

_They searched every room, every space, every cabinet, every inch, but no one was there. The house was empty. From the looks of it, it had been empty for a long, long time. _

"_He must be keeping them in a different location," Hotch said. _

_And just like that, they were back to square one. _

**-7-**

It was early in the morning when Reid insisted that they needed to get breakfast. It was why Morgan had offered to go get them something from the small store connected to the hotel lobby. He made Reid promise not to agitate or wake Emily and, above all, to not leave the room.

"_What if the fire alarm goes off?" _Reid had asked.

Morgan chuckled to himself. _"Then I'll come get you. Don't leave this room,"_ had been his reply. So now, Morgan was impatiently waiting in line for cashier. What should have taken him five minutes had quickly turned into ten. Morgan glanced at his wrist watch. At this rate he was never going to get out of there. He really didn't want to leave Reid and Emily alone much longer, but the guy in front of him was taking forever.

"Sir," the cashier emphasized, clearly annoyed. "You have to pay for this. This isn't free."

"But I don't have any money," the guy said in a soft, toneless voice.

_Really?_ Morgan huffed to himself. That's what the holdup was about? Sighing loudly, he slammed down a five dollar bill on the counter. Morgan didn't care if he had to pay ten dollars. He just wanted to get back to Emily and Reid before they got themselves into trouble.

The man turned to him then, making the hairs on Morgan's neck stand up. "Why thank you, _Agent Morgan_. You're so kind." He cocked his head to the side. "How is Spencer doing? I haven't seen him in awhile."

Morgan froze. There wasn't a doubt in his mind who was standing before him now. Without hesitation Morgan pulled out his gun and aimed it at the man's head. The other customers around him screamed but he ignored them. "Call 911," Morgan shouted to the cashier.

"I believe you are looking for me." The corner of his lips turned upwards into a satisfied and sadistic grin. Slowly, Mills held up his hands and laid calmly on the floor. "I would like to speak to my lawyer."

**Hope you guys enjoyed it! I'll try to update soon!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Thanks for all the review guys! I very much appreciate it! Only three more chapters to go! Here's the next chapter. I hope you like it! **

**-Seven-  
Chapter 14**

It had been exactly eighteen hours since Morgan had taken Mills into custody. Hotch and Rossi were standing next to him now. They had taken the quickest flight they could find on such short notice, and they had arrived in record time. While JJ watched over Reid and Emily in another room, the rest of the team desperately tried to figure out a solution to their adverse situation. Mills had just shown up out of the blue. No warning, no hunt had taken place, no big plan had gone down. The profile was so off none of them knew what to think.

"This doesn't fit the profile at all. Why would he just hand himself over to us?" Rossi asked, slightly annoyed. His eyes were fixed on the two way mirror. Mills was just sitting next to his lawyer and staring straight into nothingness. He didn't even seem to take notice of the orange jumpsuit or the situation he was in.

"We didn't find one finger print?" Garcia asked from the other line, breaking the silence.

"He cuts the skin off the tips of his fingers," Hotch informed them. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's why we couldn't find a single finger print in his apartment. It looks like he has been doing this for quite some time."

"Sick bastard," Morgan mumbled under his breath before turning back to the laptop. "What about the trace on his bank accounts, Garcia?"

"So far everything is a dead end," Garcia spoke quickly on the other line. "There are no bank accounts, no credit history, and no employment records. Nothing! Absolutely nothing! About the only thing I can find on this guy is that he is independently wealthy, well educated, and totally insane."

"Thank you, Garcia."

"And sir," Garcia hesitated.

"Yes, Garcia."

"We will lock this guy up… won't we?"

Hotch sighed. "We will." But even as he said this they all knew it was a lie. The only evidence they had against him was Emily and Reid, both of whom were not in any state of mind to take the stand. "Call us if you find anything, Garcia."

"Will do." And the line went dead.

There was a beat of silence before Morgan jumped to his feet. "When can we question him?"

"We can't," Rossi told him dryly.

Morgan's jaw tightened. "Why not?"

Rossi gestured towards the window. "He's with his lawyer."

"This man is fucking crazy," Morgan hissed. "We can't let him walk. After all Emily and Reid went through… there's no way…"

"Morgan, we know," Hotch cut in.

"Then what do we do?" Morgan snapped.

Hotch studied Mills intently through the looking glass. In a way he showed no emotion at all, the same reaction he had seen from Emily and Reid. "Not counting Emily, he's two more victims away from completing his masterpiece. We'll wait for his plea."

**7**

_It didn't take Emily very long to realize that she had company. She regarded her visitor closely. After all, it wasn't often she got visitors down here. She had to admit that him being here was unparallel. Everything was perfectly in order, exactly as it should have been, but in another time and another place. He wasn't real, yet he was standing in front of her now as if nothing had changed._

"_What are you doing here?" she finally asked. _

_He shrugged. "Looking for you."_

_The logistics of this whole place were way off. The sun was too bright, the grass was too green, the water was too blue. To put it simply, it was breathtakingly perfect. Down here there was no pain, no regrets, only serenity. Emily laid back to take it all in._

"_How'd you fine me?" She stated nonchalantly._

_There was that familiar look on his face, a hopeful expression she'd sometimes witnessed when she caught him unaware. Like he was waiting for a signal, a sign, for her to make the first move. "Ahh. Now I believe you are the only one who can answer that."_

"_Because I need you to be."_

"_Precisely. And why is that?"_

_She ignored his question. "Morgan…"_

"_Yeah?"_

_Emily hesitated. She knew he wasn't real, nothing here was, but she really needed to pretend that he was. She had been drowning in her own consciousness for so long she wasn't quite sure the way back to reality. _

"_What's going on up there?"_

_He shrugged. "Does it matter? I thought you liked it here."_

_But she couldn't ignore the truth to herself. That deep down she wanted to stay here forever, caught in a state of limbo between two clashing realms. If she never went back for the remainder of her life, she would be content with the trade-off. She couldn't go back to her other existence. Despite its inherent flaws, this was the heaven she didn't believe in and she rejoiced in it. It mattered little that his touch wasn't real, or that his body wasn't as warm as she'd always imagined. It was still where she most wanted to be. Yet it frightened her how quickly she was willing to live a fantasy rather than face reality. She was discovering new things about herself, some of them worse than others. For once, she hadn't known that she had a breaking point, or that it was so easily accessible._

"…_But then again," he continued on. "I must mean something. You created this vessel. You brought me here I might add."_

"_You're not even real," she pointed out somewhat bitterly._

"_When we're asleep, we see what we want to see. When we're awake, we see what is really there." He gave her a knowing look. "Is that why you don't want to wake up?"_

"_It's disappointing to know that you can see right through me."_

_A sudden frown threatened to break his grin. "Do you blame me for what happened, Em? Is that what this is all about? I am the one who didn't answer my phone. Do you hate me?"_

_It would have been so easy to lie, to unburden her conscience by laying fault squarely at his feet. He stood there in quiet contemplation, awaiting news of her judgment, ready to accept whatever sentence she dealt out. But even in facsimile she couldn't purposely deceive him. It just wasn't possible._

"_I blame no one but myself." There wasn't any doubt of her sincerity. "No one…"_

_She'd expertly deflected the truth, but ever the investigator, Morgan dogged it. He was about to ask the million dollar question, and she braced herself for the fallout. There was nowhere left to hide, not this time. And besides, she was tired of running._

"_Then why did you bring me here instead of Reid? What happened to you guys?"_

_She hesitated. "Reid?"_

_Morgan seemed amused. "Yes. Our boy genius." He paused. "You know he's not the same without you… the real you that is."_

"_I'm still there," she argued._

"_Not really."_

"_Tell me Morgan…"_

"_No. I'd rather not."_

"_How long?" she pressed, desperate to just know. _

_He kneeled down next to her then and poked her right on the nose. "Ahhh," he drew out, smirking as he did so. "But I thought you didn't want to remember?" _

"…_I… don't." She didn't, yet she still found herself repeating, "How long? How long as it been?"_

"_Well it's hard to say how long you've been catatonic. We found you that way."_

_She found his eyes unerringly fast. "You found us?" __she repeated it, stunned, the news hitting her with the force of a category-five hurricane. All at once her legs felt as though they were going to give way underneath her, and she might have fallen. _

_He gave a slight nod. "After five months and three weeks." Turning his head, he locked eyes with hers. "That's a long time to be held captive."_

_No one moved, no one spoke as she tried to take it all. For a minute she was seized by a horrible sense of fear. She caught a series of horrible images. Images that made her clutched at her heart with both hands just to keep it anchored inside her chest. While she struggled to bring her breathing under control, she felt Morgan take her hand._

"_Take it easy, Em." _

"_I… I don't want to remember," she almost sobbed, breaking all together. "I can't."_

"_You'll have to. The time will come eventually."_

_He __sat next to her, on top of a mountain with a sheer cliff, yards away from a dangerous drop-off which overlooked a tumultuous river. There was no need to measure her sorrow, as it was plainly evident, even from a distance_

"_Are you going to jump?" he asked after a moment of silence._

"_Not yet."_

"_Why not?"_

"_Because…"_

_The atmosphere magically changed around them, like the casting of a potent Wicca spell. Air rushed past them and the sun was now hidden by a layer of thick clouds. __"Don't lull yourself into a false sense of security, Em. This can't last."_

"_I don't need forever. I just need long enough."_

_He peered out over the cliff as if suggesting something._ "_It's a way out…"_

"_This is… ridiculous. You're not even real."_

"_I told you – I'm as real as you need me to be."_

_A sudden wave of fear forced her to her feet._ "_You don't know what's going to happen next," she told him, panic evident in her shouts. "You don't know… I can't wake up yet… I can't. You don't know." _

"_Then tell me."_

_Emily 's legs collapsed from under her again. "I am afraid of what will happen. If I jump… that would mean waking up. That would mean to breathe. Morgan," she cried silently, "I don't remember how to. I don't remember what it was like to live… I don't…."_

"_We'll help you, Em. We all will. You know that."_

"_But then I'll have to remember. I'll have to deal with the pain again." She looked up at him then with big round, sad eyes. _

_Morgan sat down next to her on the grass; their legs hung out over the cliff. "Look down and tell me what you see," he insisted. _

"_Morgan…"_

"_Just do it."_

"_I see a river, and some rocks."_

_But he wanted more, and would accept nothing less._

"_Look deeper."_

_She frowned at the persistence, and when she did some of the color faded from the world around them. But the connection was never quite made, lost in the details._

"_It's a solution."_

_He nodded, now they were getting somewhere._

"_By definition a solution implies an answer to a problem. This isn't an answer, it's copping out. And if that's not enough to give you pause, then at least consider Reid and what he's going to do to you."_

"_You don't know what he's capable of."_

"_But you do," he shot back._

_Thunder exploded in the distance, evidence he'd hit a nerve, one that had never had an opportunity to heal properly in the first place. _

"_Morgan… please. I'm not ready yet. I'm not ready to jump. I'm not ready to go back yet. I'm not ready to breathe." She covered her eyes as if this simple act could keep all the memories of the past at bay. _

_He sighed. "I know."_

"_Will you stay with me?"_

"_Of course." He smiled at her then. _

"_You promise?"_

"_I promise."_

_His promise gave her so much hope._

**7**

_Mills sat in the center of the room and stared blankly at the boy sitting in front of him. The kid was dressed in nothing more than a large knitted sweatshirt, yet the oncoming blizzard outside didn't seem to bother him. A sound like thunder boomed outside, quickly overriding all other noise within the rolling canopies of the valley. It cascaded off the sides of mountains and over the currents of twisting ice covered streams. _

_The storm was coming. _

_It had been exactly five month and three weeks since Mills had taken him and the demon. Though the kid couldn't remember the first two months of his stay, he knew that Mills had taught him well. __The schedule Mills demanded was rigorous and seemingly without end, and the kid had found himself immersed in a world that was no longer of his making. The details of his other life began to quickly fade, and it wasn't long before he found it difficult to even remember what it had been like before. Mills had stuck true to his word without fail._

"_You know what to do?" Mills asked him slowly. _

_The kid glanced up, but his face remained solid and impossible to read. "I do." _

_A sadistic smile slowly grew at the corner of his lips. "I've taught you well." Mills glanced at the clock. "They'll be here soon. Take this."_

_He wasn't prepared for the item Mills shoved into his hand. The metal weighed heavy and oddly right. Had he held one before? Never had a gun felt so wrong, so right. Suddenly he felt torn, unsure of what to do. It felt loaded. He could have shot Mills right then and there and put an end to it all, but something held him back. Instead, he hid the gun under his shirt and gave it no other thought._

"_They set off the alarm at the house not more than two hours ago. It won't take them long to figure out where we are. They should make it here by the end of the day." Mills paused. "I want you to take the demon to the shack. You'll be safe there. I'll come back for you when you call. Okay?" _

"_I understand."_

_Mills smiled brightly at him. "I have taught you so well. Your training will end when you kill the demon. I'll deal with the last two."_

"_Who's the last demon?" _

_Mills smiled. "I've decided to let you pick."_

"_But I don't know…"_

"_Anyone," Mills pushed. "Anyone at all."_

_He gave him a blank look. "But I don't know anyone. I don't know any demons expect the one we have here."_

"_You do. Think," Mills insisted. "I know you do. Give me a name."_

_He felt his pulse begin to race. __He tried to think, but he couldn't. It hurt too much. His head was spinning and the constant drumming seemed to be intensifying every minute. He suddenly cried out as vague memories from just months ago came rushing back. Memories he didn't want to remember. It hurt. Everything hurt. His mind. His body. Everything. It felt as if he were ripping into two. _

_He could see faces of those he once knew, but he couldn't place their names. He had fought so hard to keep those memories at bay. The last five and half months had been spent in favor of survival. Everything he did had destroyed the person he used to be, yet Mills wanted him to remember now. _

_Then suddenly an odd calm washed over his face as he pulled a name from the back of his head. _

**7**

The lawyer, a Mr. Ted Berkley, Mills had hired was sitting across from them, dressed in a ridiculously expensive suit and was staring at them with blank eyes. He gave no sign of emotion, nor did he seem to care that he was currently defending a sadistic serial killer. If anything, he looked bored.

"My client says there are two more bodies, two more victims hiding away," Berkley said, speaking annoyingly calm and slow. "He says he'll only take Agent Morgan and Agent Hotchner to those bodies at six o'clock today."

Morgan clutched the back of the chair. He was doing everything in his power to stay cool and collected, but nothing was really helping. "Why us?" he forced out the question through gritted teeth.

Berkley didn't miss a beat. "He says he admirers you."

Morgan narrowed his eyes suspiciously. If the guy was lying, he gave no outward indication of it. This irritated Morgan to a whole new level. He just wanted Emily and Reid to have their justice, yet this Berkley guy was the only thing standing in their way.

As if Hotch could sense Morgan's outrage, Hotch jumped in. "It's part of the game, Morgan,"

"My client," Berkley began in that same monotone voice again, "claims that if these agents do not accept this offer these two bodies will never be found."

"No," Morgan snapped. "We have this guy. I don't give a –"

"He could be lying," Rossi cut him off, but Morgan wasn't listening.

"We got our guy. He's locked up, handcuffed, and downstairs. It's a done deal. And then there's you," Morgan spat harshly, directing his insult towards the lawyer across from him, "in your three thousand dollar suit with that smug smile on your face dealing for that piece of shit."

"Morgan," Hotched warned.

"I am required by law to serve my client –"

Morgan rolled his eyes. "That's bull. You know as well as I –"

"My client wishes to inform you that if you don't take his offer, he will plead insanity across the board." Berkley raised his eyebrows as if daring them to question that.

At that, an uncomfortable silence washed across the room. After all Emily and Reid had been put through they knew they couldn't let this happen. Mills needed to get the punishment he deserved. If he was sent to some psych ward then there would be a chance he'd be evaluated and sent free in five or ten years. They could not let this happen.

"I'd like to see him try," Rossi spoke, breaking the silence.

"With the extreme nature of these crimes there is a chance," Hotch spoke softly.

"Son of a Bitch," Morgan breathed out.

Berkley let out an exasperated sigh. "He says if you do exactly what he wishes he'll sign a full confession and plead guilty."

Morgan didn't even hesitate. "Full confession?" Berkley nodded. "I'm in."

But Hotch wasn't so sure. "Something is off…"

"It has to be the both of you," The lawyer informed them.

Hotch gave Berkley his infamous glare. "If he were to claim insanity, then this conversation is compensable. The fact that he's blackmailing us with his plea."

"And my client would like to remind you that there are two more victims." Berkley glanced around at each of them. "The press would have a field day if they found out the FBI wasn't too concerned about finding them."

"_If_ there are two more dead victims," Rossi pressed. Berkley shrugged.

"Hotch," Morgan pleaded. "We got him. Emily and Reid went through hell for nearly six months with this guy. _Six _months. I don't know about you, but I think if they lasted that long, we'll be able to handle him for an hour or two."

"It's not that I'm worried about, Morgan. Something isn't right. Why the sudden show up? Why tell us there are two more victims? These victims might not even exist. We thought Emily was his fifth victim, not his last. If she was his last victim, then this changes the whole profile."

"The profile was off to begin with," Morgan shot back. He just wanted to end this.

"You'd be escorting an unarmed man," Rossi added slowly. "We can bug you guys so we know your every move and we can follow you in a helicopter."

Morgan locked eyes with him. "Please, Hotch. Let's just finish this."

**A/N: Almost done! And plus, we get to meet Mills in the next chapter. **


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Thanks for all the review guys! I very much appreciate it! It's almost done! Here's the next chapter. I hope you are enjoying this story. **

**-Seven-**

**Chapter 15**

Morgan folded his arms across his chest and turned towards the side window to watch the white trees blur past, like cotton-balls and bursts of white. It had been a _very _long day and the lack of sleep was finally catching up on him. If it had been any other unsub, he might have just called it quits for another day, but because it was Mills, he knew he couldn't. Emily and Reid _needed _their redemption. Hell, they all did. Experiencing someone else's fear could be worse than your own, especially when it was someone you cared about. Morgan had lived and breathed in their fears. It was time to end this.

"Tired, Agent Morgan?" Mills asked from the back seat of the police car. He currently had his hands and feet cuffed to the floorboard, yet he still had that smirk plastered on his face. Thankfully, there was a bar divider separating them or Morgan was pretty sure he'd smack the smile right off his face.

Sensing the dispute, Hotch jumped in, "Who are you Gregory? Who are you really?" Hotch questioned from the driver's seat of the car.

Mills peered at them in a way that made even Morgan feel small. "What do you mean?"

"At this stage, what harm could it do to tell us a little about yourself?" Hotch asked causally. They had taken every precaution necessary, including a helicopter following behind, yet everything still felt wrong. He couldn't place it, but Hotch knew. However, they had come this far; they couldn't turn back now.

"It doesn't matter who I am. Who I am means absolutely nothing." Mills slowly glanced out the window with a vacant gaze. "You need to stay on your left up here."

Despite the barred fence separating them, Morgan couldn't help but feel a little uneasy with Emily and Reid's kidnaper in the back seat of their car. "So where are we heading?"

"You'll see," Mills told them, his voice neglected of any emotion at all.

Hotch caught Mills eyes in the rearview mirror. "We're not just going to pick up two more bodies. Are we Greg? That wouldn't be shocking enough for you," he pushed. They needed more information.

However, Morgan preferred to take a different path. At this point he'd be willing to do anything to piss the guy off. "We got newspapers to think about," he mocked. "Are you trying to make headlines?"

Mills hardly spared a glance. "Wanting people to listen… you can't just tap them on the shoulder anymore. You have to hit them with a sledgehammer and then you'll notice that you have their strict attention."

He said it so peacefully and calmly, Morgan found himself having a hard time to not beat the crap out of him right then and there. "But the question is… what makes you so special that people should listen?" Morgan asked without a seconds pause.

"I'm not special," Mills told them honestly. His voice was monotone as he stared at them with an odd, blank expression. "I've never been exceptional, but this is though. What I'm doing…My work."

"You're work, Greg?" Hotch asked, addressing him by name to give them the personal connection they needed.

Mills didn't blink. "Yes."

"See, I don't see anything special about it," Morgan antagonized. "Your work has been nothing but fake. It's not even original. No one will remember you, Greg."

"That's not true."

"Oh, but it is true. Two months from now no one is going to give a shit. When we're done here, you're going to go to jail and rot there for the rest of your life. No one is going to remember you. No one."

"You can't see the whole complete act yet." Mills turned his head sharply towards Morgan. "But when this is done… it's going to be…" His black eyes glowed with anticipation. "People will barely be able to comprehend it."

Morgan rolled his eyes at Hotch. "Is he making sense to you?"

A sadistic smile tugged at the corner of Mills lips, almost as if he was proud. "I can't wait for you to see. I really can't. It's really going to be something."

"Well you know what?" Morgan mocked, building a confidence unlike his own. "I'm going to be standing right there. Right by your side, so when this big thing happens… you be sure to let me know because I wouldn't want to miss it."

"Oh don't worry. You won't," Mills replied effortlessly. "You won't miss a thing."

**7**

"…1393…1400…1407…1414…1421…1428…1435…"

"Reid," JJ finally spoke up, breaking him from his trance. For almost the whole day her, Reid, and Emily had been cramped in the small room as they waited for the others to finish up with Mills. She knew that her role here was to play the babysitter, but never had the job been so boring. This wasn't like watching Henry, who she desperately yearned for at the moment. It was the first time she'd been away from him since his birth, and these two weren't helping the matter. Emily just sat there, completely lost to the world. Reid on the other hand kept mumbling under his breath. It took her awhile to realize he was whispering multiples of seven.

Reid glanced up at her. "Did you know that the Hebrew word for seven occurs a total of three hundred and ninety-two times in the Bible. This is not only a multiple of seven but of seven times seven, three hundred and ninety-two times equals eight times seven times seven. Three hundred ninety-two times is also remarkable for being the sum of the square of seven and the cube of seven."

"I did not know that, Reid," she told him.

"For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord," Reid quoted suddenly. He didn't even blink.

JJ shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Normally the boy genius had her laughing at his unsocial skills, but not today. This wasn't the Spencer she knew. In fact, she wasn't sure if she knew him at all. "Reid," she pleaded suddenly, "we want to help you get through this, but we can't unless you let us in."

JJ placed a reassuring hand on his own, but he just stared blankly at her. Then slowly he turned towards the clock and a dark shadow washed over his face. "It's six o'clock," he stated tonelessly. "It will start soon. It will have to." He looked almost sad as he spoke those words.

"What will, Reid?"

He glanced at Emily, but otherwise kept his mouth shut.

More than disappointed, JJ leaned back in her chair and sighed. She wasn't sure if they would ever get through to him. "Are you hungry?"

Reid thought about it before nodding his head. "Just thirsty."

"Alright. I'll go get us something. Stay here." She gave him a pointed look and made her way to the door. Morgan had assured her that Reid and Emily were more than capable of staying by themselves for awhile, yet she couldn't help but add, "Can I trust you?"

"No."

"What?" JJ spun around, but by then it was too late. The savage blow had knocked her completely off her feet as something solid connected with her head. Unprepared for the brutal attack, she hit the ground hard, her ears ringing and her head pounding from the blinding pain. She could feel the warm, sticky flow of blood seeping down her face, but she hardly gave it a second thought. "Reid…."

He was towering over her with the desk lamp in his hands. There were tears in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, JJ… I have to. I'm going to kill the demon in Emily and you'll stop me if I don't...I'm sorry… "

He swung the lamp at her again. This time he knocked her unconscious.

**7**

"What's so exciting?" Hotch asked upon seeing how Mills had grown antsy.

"We're almost there."

But Hotch already knew this. He knew as soon as they made the left turn a mile back exactly where Mills was taking them. To the place where it all began was the place where it would all end.

"I have a question," Morgan spoke up. "I've been trying to figure something out. When a person is insane…. As you clearly are…"

"Morgan," Hotch warned. He knew Morgan was up to no good. This whole situation was turning into a nightmare. They would be lucky if everything went according to plan. Ironically, Hotch was worried that _Morgan _would mess this up and not Mills. He knew Morgan wanted his revenge and if Mills was taking them to the middle of nowhere, then it really would be the perfect time and place for Morgan to get it.

Morgan ignored him. "Do you know that you're insane?"

There were many things Mills could have said or done to that. They lived and breathed in this case, yet Mills still managed to surprise them. He did the unthinkable. He gave a profile. "You've seen a lot of bad in your life Agent Morgan, yet you still manage to see the good in this world. You don't understand why people kill each other. It's more comfortable for you to label me as insane because you don't know how to comprehend what I'm capable of doing. You don't want to believe that a normal, _innocent _man could kill. You want to believe that deep down good people will always be good. But you see, who we are isn't so much about what we do, but rather what we are capable of when we least expected it."

"You're insane," Morgan repeated. "I am very comfortable labeling you as that."

Mills jaw twitched. "It's not something I would expect you to accept. But I did not choose. I was chosen."

"Right…"

"I don't doubt that you believe that, Greg," Hotch cut in before Morgan could do something stupid. "But seems to me that you are overlooking the blaring contradiction."

"Meaning what?"

"If you were chosen by a higher power, if your hand was forced… it seems strange that you would get so much enjoyment out of it. You enjoyed torturing those people."

Mills turned his head slowly back to Morgan. "I doubt I'd enjoy it any more than Agent Morgan would enjoy spending time alone with me in a room without windows. Isn't that true? How happy would it make you to hurt me?"

"That hurts my feelings," Morgan mocked.

"You wouldn't because of the consequences." Mills paused. "There's nothing wrong with a man taking personal pride in his work. I won't deny my personal desire to turn each sin against the sinner."

Morgan clenched his fist. "Wait, I thought all you did was kill innocent people," he agitated, his voice etched with annoyance and disgust.

Then Mills eyes suddenly turned dark with anger, the first sign of emotion Morgan had actually seen. "Innocent? Is that supposed to be funny?" Mills snapped. "An obese woman... a disgusting woman who could barely stand up; a woman who if you saw her on the street, you'd point her out to your friends so that they could join you in mocking her. And a man, who if you saw him while you were eating, you wouldn't be able to finish your meal. After him, I picked the lawyer and I know you both must have been secretly thanking me for that one. This is a man who dedicated his life to making money by lying with every breath that he could muster to keeping murderers and rapists on the streets."

"Murderers?"

"A woman…"

Morgan raised his eyebrows. "Murderers, Greg, like yourself?"

"A woman," Mills interrupted quickly, "so ugly on the inside she couldn't bear to go on living if she couldn't be beautiful on the outside. A disease-spreading whore! Only in a world this shitty could you even try to say these were innocent people and keep a straight face. But that's the point. We see a deadly sin on every street corner, in every home, and we tolerate it. We tolerate it because it's common, it's trivial. We tolerate it morning, noon, and night. Well, not anymore!" Mills took a deep breath and then just like that, he was calm again. "I'm setting the example," he said softer this time. "What I've done is going to be puzzled over and studied and followed... forever."

"…Yeah," Morgan said, drawing out the word to show his disinterest.

"You should be thanking me," Mills pointed out.

Morgan rolled his eyes. "And why is that?"

"Because we're going to be remembered after this. Remember Agent, the only reason why I'm here right now is that I wanted to be."

"No," Morgan informed. "We would have found you eventually."

"Oh really?" Mills asked, slightly amused. "What were you doing then? Biting your time? Toying with me? Allowing people to die? What was the indisputable evidence you were going to use to catch me before _I _walked up to _you_ and put _my _hands in the air?"

"Mills calm down."

"What were you waiting for Agents? Letting your friend rot away while she was screaming for you to come and save her." Mills leaned forward so he his forehead was touching the barred fence that separated them. "Did you know that, Agent Morgan? She screamed for you. Cried for _you_."

"Sit back," Morgan shouted

"She cried for _you_ to come save her –"

Morgan reached for his gun and aimed it straight at Mills. "Sit the fuck back!"

"Morgan," Hotch warned.

"-but you never came," Mills continued quickly and tonelessly. "You let her down, Agent Morgan. I won. I broke her until there was nothing left."

"Shut up and sit back. Goddamn it, sit back!"

"Morgan!" Hotch shouted.

"I broke her and showed her the worthless whore she truly was. Remember that Agent Morgan every time you look in the mirror. When she was screaming for _your _help every night…_ you_ didn't come. _You_ were too late. Remember that."

"Sit the fuck back and shut the fuck up."

"Morgan!" Hotch shouted.

"You're no messiah," Morgan spat. "You're just a movie of the week at best."

"Don't ask me to pity those people, those demons. "

Hotch glanced in the rearview mirror. "Is that what you're doing, Greg? What you were doing was God's own work?"

"The lord works in mysterious ways." Mills looked out the window and smiled brightly. "Oh. Look at that. We're here."


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Thanks for all the review guys! I very much appreciate it! Here's the second to last chapter. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

**-Seven-**

**Chapter 16**

It felt as if the whole globe was dressed in snow. Like it had pulled it on, the way you pull on a sweater. Footprints were sunken to their shins. Trees wore blankets of ice. Hotch and Morgan were dressed all in black, while Mills clashed against the snow in a bright orange jumper. They moved fast and kept their guns at eye level. Mills had planned to hold Emily and Reid for exactly seven months and today those seven months finally came to an end. After this, they could all live their lives in peace.

"Where are the bodies, Mills?" Morgan shouted. They were in the middle of nowhere. The shack in which they originally found Emily and Reid was probably two miles north of them. That was where they had originally assumed Mills was taking them, yet now they weren't so sure. They didn't expect him to stop the car here, in the middle of nowhere. "Where are the two other victims?" he repeated louder.

"Why so impatient Agent Morgan?" Mills spoke, just loud enough to be heard over the wind. "What time is it?"

"Why do you need to know?" Hotch asked.

"Just curious."

"Almost seven."

Mills inhaled with confidence. "It's close."

Something told them that he wasn't talking about the bodies. "Let's take a look then. Show us," Morgan pressed. He just wanted to get this over and done with.

Mills nodded his head to the side. "It's this way."

Hiking along the path of an unmarked trail, Mills walked just ahead of them with his hands and feet cuffed. The snow made it difficult to walk and see, but Morgan still followed behind nonetheless. They had stopped in the middle of nowhere, leaving their rental car parked by the shoulder of the road. Ahead, the winding ribbon of trees and snow extended for infinite miles; it undulated over the horizon like the belly of a giant black snake.

Hotch lingered behind them, listening for any sounds out of the ordinary. He didn't trust Mills and he didn't completely trust Morgan to not rip the unsub's head off either. They had walked about the distance of half a football field when Hotch had a sinking feeling in his stomach. Nothing but emptiness laid out in front of them. There were no bodies here. Hotch glanced hesitatingly at the sky. The helicopter was above them somewhere, though he wasn't exactly sure as to where. They were completely and utterly alone.

And that's when he heard it.

Hotch stopped in his tracks. "Morgan. Do you hear that?"

They halted and suddenly everything was quiet expect for a distant hum. At first there was only snow and white, but then Morgan heard it too. A low humming sound, like a car just over the hill. A moment later the source revealed itself.

A van.

And it was heading straight towards them.

"Morgan," Hotch instructed using only his name.

"Down." Morgan pulled out his gun and aimed it at Mills. "Get down you son of a bitch."

"Watch him," Hotch ordered before running to the car.

Mills turned and gave Morgan a sadistic smile. "There he goes," he said softly. "You know, I'm glad we have the chance to talk now."

Morgan desperately tried to keep his mind solely on Mills, but Hotch, who was shouting into his headpiece, was not helping his concentration. They should have known Mills wasn't just taking them to two more bodies.

**7**

About fifty yards away, Hotch managed to get the oncoming truck to come to a halt. It only took a gun and a few shouts here and there to get the guy behind the wheel out of the car and onto the ground.

"Put your hands on your head and step away from the vehicle," Hotch shouted. "Now."

"Don't shoot!" the guy pleaded like a frightened child.

Hotch didn't lower his gun. "Turn around and put your hands on your head."

The guy did what he was told. "Please… I'm just here to drop off these letters for this guy."

Hotch narrowed his eyes, confused. "For who?"

"…It's for a guy named Aaron," the man stuttered. "Aaron Hotchner."

**7**

"When I said that I admire you," Mills began softly. "I meant it."

"Shut up."

Mills didn't. "You've made quite a life for yourself Agent. You should be very proud."

Morgan glared at him. "Shut the fuck up."

**7**

"This guy paid me eight hundred bucks to bring it out here man," the man rushed to explain. "He said he wanted it here at exactly seven o'clock."

He looked at Hotch with nervous eyes, but Hotch didn't drop his guard. "Get it," he ordered.

The man nodded before slowly making his way to the trunk of his car. Only now did Hotch realize that it was, in fact, a delivery van. Within seconds the man emerged with three sealed letters.

Hotch carefully took the three letters from the guy's hand. For a moment he froze. Mills had sent a letter to the police for every victim that he had killed. In the letter it would say the name of the sin, the demon, the tortures committed on the victim, and where to find the dead body. However, it didn't make sense. Emily was victim number five, which meant there were still two more victims. But who?

Unable to put his gun down, Hotch ordered the mail man to open each of the letters and then read them out loud. When the guy started, it suddenly clicked.

Everything made sense.

Three letters. Seven o'clock. _The plan_.

"Damn it," Hotch cursed

The other man raised an eye brow. "Look man…can I leave now?"

But Hotch was hardly paying attention. He was thinking. Suddenly, his heart stopped as he remembered Morgan's words of hatred at the hospital so long ago.

"_I'll kill the bastard who did this to them. I swear I'll kill him."_

"_You won't."_

"_I will."_

"My God," Hotch whispered before taking off in a sprint.

**7**

Mills turned his head carelessly to the side. "Oh, look. Here he comes."

Morgan's head snapped in Hotch's direction. Whatever the man in the truck had brought them, had stirred something up in Hotch. He was running at full speed and shouting something undetectable above the howling wind. Morgan strained his ears to hear, but he couldn't make out the words. However, he didn't need Hotch to tell him that something had gone terribly wrong. He already knew.

"I wish I could have lived like you do," Mills began softly.

"Shut up!" Morgan snapped, desperately trying to make out what Hotch was shouting.

"I'm trying to tell you how much I admire you. You and the rest of your team. Especially the pretty blond one that makes you laugh. Garcia… or am I mistaken? And let's not forget about sweet Emily and poor Spencer. I wonder how they're doing right now, Agent Morgan. Do you know? Because if I'm not mistaken, I believe it's seven o'clock."

Morgan's heart stopped. "What?"

Mills smiled at him slowly. "Seven months are finally over now, _Derrick. _Down to the exact hour. Seven months they have been held captive by me. I believe my plan is coming to an end now. It will all be over in just a few short minutes.

Morgan cocked his head to the side and studied Mills intently. It wasn't until Mills let that sadistic smile grow did he realize that he had been fooled. _The Plan. _He was part of it. They were _all _part of it. From the moment Emily and Reid had been taken hostage they had _all _become the victims. And suddenly he could hear Reid's voice screaming in his ear:

"_The plan! It's not part of the plan. We have to stick to the plan at all cost. At __all __cost."_

"_No. He'll come back… He's coming, Morgan. God, he's coming…_

How long had Reid known? How long could he have stopped this from happening?

"_So many people will get hurt."_

"_I don't want to hurt her. I don't…I really don't." _

"Tell me, Agent Morgan…did you say goodbye to them before you left?" Mills asked, his eyebrows rising.

Morgan tightened his hold on the gun. "What'd you do with them! What the fuck did you do with them?"

Mills looked offended. "What did _I _do with them?" Mills paused and sighed calmly. "I believe you shouldn't be asking what_ I_ did, but what is _Spencer _going to do? It's funny… how we think we know people. Isn't it?"

"Where are they Mills? Where the hell are they?"

"She's dead. The boy killed her. Just like I taught him to do," Mills told him without emotion. "And when I'm gone he'll continue in my name, just like I did for my teacher and my teacher's teacher."

"No," Morgan shouted. "What did you do to them! Where the hell are they!"

Mills shrugged before gesturing towards Hotch who by now had finally reached them. "If you don't believe me, then maybe you'll listen to him."

Morgan's heart dropped at the sight of the letters in Hotch's hand.

**7**

"Emily, stop. Please stop struggling…. I have to do this."

Reid pulled the rope tight, then stepped back to see everything he had accomplished. The moment had finally come, yet he still felt a heavy burden on his shoulders. He didn't know what he had hoped for. A second chance? A resolution?

He had spent his whole life concentrating on what everyone else thought of him, but now it seemed like an utter waste of time. Somehow he had forgotten who he really was. What if he wasn't who Morgan said he was? Maybe who he was, wasn't so much about what he did, but rather what he was capable of when he least expected it. At least, that's what Mills had taught him.

"The demon inside you will be killed." He pulled the words from the back of his throat and forced them out. "You can be free again, Emily."

A part of him was screaming that this was wrong, that he shouldn't be doing this. However, the better part of him pushed that thought to the back of his mind. He gave her a chilling smile then. The blade felt heavy in his hands. So wrong, yet so right. Leaning forward, he pulled Emily into a tight hug. Her head slumped onto his shoulder and he breathed in the scent of her. "I'm sorry for everything, Emily."

He meant every word.

And then there came a moment, one exquisite moment, where he pierced the first everlasting scar into her lower abdomen. He didn't pull the knife out until he felt the warm flow of blood seep its way onto his hands. He didn't flinch at her gasp and he didn't falter at the way she looked at him with fearful eyes. Instead, he pulled the blade out and repeated his actions.

He did this a total of seven times.

**7**

_Lightening consumed the night sky and the thunder that came next swallowed it whole. It had been sunny and bright only a few short hours ago. Now the world was collapsing._

"_It's time, Em," Morgan shouted above the howling wind. _

_She stumbled away from him, away from the cliff. "No," She choked out. "Let me go, Morgan. Just let me go." She was sobbing now, shaking violently under his stare. "I can't."_

"_Yes you can." He held out his hand. "Take it, Em. I'll jump with you."_

_The way he was looking at her suffocated her heart. There was so much sorrow, pity in his eyes it made her sick. "I can't." _

"_You'll die," he snapped._

"_I want to stay dead, Reid!" she sobbed uncontrollably, as she finally revealed the horrible truth to him… to herself. "I want to stay dead." _

_That was a mistake, she knew it the very second the words had left her mouth. This wasn't Reid. This was Morgan. You don't play with fire, especially when there's an accelerant in the vicinity. There were limits and barriers never to be crossed, even here, especially here. _

_He rushed at her suddenly, crowding her to the very edge of the cliff. She gasped, instinctively flailing her arms, before he pinned them down to her side with a firm holding grip. She tried to struggle, but it was of no use. _

"_I'm not Reid, Em! I don't know what happened, but I know one thing… dying is not the answer. Always have hope, Em. Always." _

"_Morgan," she sobbed, but her voice got lost in the wind._

"_You need help. I get that, Em. I do. Should I jump with you? Would that help? This is it, Em, the point of no return. This is where you hand the reins of your life over to your enemy forever. For once take those blinders off. You're not the only one suffering here. It's like ripples in a pond, a domino effect. One action touches another, all the way down the line, until nobody is left standing. But about halfway before you reach the bottom."_

_But before she could answer him, however, the world seemed to collapse from under her feet. She gasped, clutched at her stomach and tumbled into his arms. _

_She was panicking. "Morgan…what's happening?" she gasped, struggling to breathe, struggling to move. A bright red was beginning to consume her shirt and she didn't know why. _

"_We have to go now! Em, you're bleeding._

"_How?" she choked out wide-eyed and scared. _

"_Does it matter? Take my hand, Em!" he shouted, desperate to be heard over the rain. "Take it, Em. I'll breathe for you so you don't have to. Okay? Will that make it easier?"_

"_Yes," she forced out through gritted teeth. _

"_But you have to promise to wake up. Okay? Can you do that? Can you wake up?"_

_She nodded, now confident. "I can. I promise."_

_That was enough. He took her hand in his and together they jumped._

_**7**_

Violent shakes began to take hold of Morgan's body. Angrily, he turned to Hotch. "What do the letters say, Hotch."

"I just told you," Mills said with a sigh.

"You lie!" Morgan snapped, angrier than he ever had been before.

Hotch looked him directly in the eye and Morgan knew something was wrong. "Morgan, put the gun down," Hotch said calmly.

"I admire you, Agent Morgan," Mills spoke softer still.

"_Shut up!" _

"Everything about you I enjoy." Desire was evident in his voice

"Morgan…" Hotch warned.

"_Everything."_

"I said, shut the fuck up," Morgan shouted louder, jamming the gun into Mills skull.

"This is what he_ wants,_ Morgan," Hotch insisted. "Can't you see that? If you kill him…you'll go to jail. This is what he wants."

Mills closed his eyes and started to pray. "May she rest in peace. Hallow be thy name…"

"No! You tell me…. You tell me that's not true." Tears welled up in Morgan's eyes. "Tell me, Hotch. Tell me Emily's alright… Tell me… what do the letters say."

"I _envy_ you agent Morgan. I _envy _everything about you. Your relationship with women. Your job, your friends. Everything. Can't you see? It would seem that my sin is_ envy_."

Morgan's eyes grew wide, now realizing_. "No,"_ he whispered, refusing to believe. They had been tricked. Every last one of them. Garcia had been right. Taking them back had been the worst mistake of his life.

"I was training him," Mills explained slowly. "He was so stubborn at first, refusing to believe that the girl was a demon, but I changed him. I made him see clearly. Mills locked eyes with him, grinning sadistically.

"You sick bastard."

Morgan inhaled sharply and pressed his lips in a straight line. By now, tears were forming in his eyes and he could hardly hold his gun straight, yet he still did not back down. "You lie!" Morgan cursed, shaking his head. "You're a fucking liar. Where are they?"

The helicopter was flying directly over head now and Hotch had a sinking feeling in his stomach. Now there would be witnesses. Hotch threw his gun behind him, desperately hoping that this simple gesture would calm his Agent down. "Morgan, put the gun down." But something inside him told him Morgan wouldn't. "This is what he wants. If you kill him, you'll be giving him _exactly _what he wants.

"She's in a better place now," Mills patronized. "The boy killed the demon inside of her. You'll see."

"Shut up! Shut up!" Morgan screamed, hysterically waving his gun around. "Where the fuck are they! Tell me Emily's alright!"

"She begged me not to hurt her. Did you know that?"

"_Shut up!"_ Morgan sent a warning shot into the air. Only Hotch flinched. Mills didn't even blink. "You bastard. What the hell did you do to them? Hotch tell me Emily is alright! Call JJ…. He's lying. Tell me he's lying!"

"It's okay, Agent Morgan," Mills soothed. "Become _wrath." _

Morgan faltered, nearly losing his hold on his gun.

"Tell me, Agent Morgan," Mills went on, "how does it feel to know that your best friend picked you?"

Morgan shoved the gun into Mills head. "W…what the hell are you talking about?"

"Part of his training was to pick the seventh and final victim. What do you know. He picked you." His eye twitched. "Naturally, I began to watch over you, study you." Mills gave him a blank expression. "I didn't think I'd become obsessed. But I did and I knew…. I knew. I envy you Agent Morgan. I really do."

He was wrath. Mills was Envy. Emily was pride. _They _were the final three victims.

"_I'm sorry, Morgan," Reid had whispered into his ear. "I'm sorry that I picked you." _

Emily's stick figure drawings snapped to the front of his mind._ DEMON _had been spelt next to his name.

Emily knew. Reid knew. Mills knew. Because it was all part of the plan. All part of the fucking plan. Slowly, he glanced at Hotch and swallowed hard. "Where's Emily, Hotch. Where is she?" She was his only hope.

Hotch glanced at the letter. "Morgan…" he said slowly. If he told Morgan that Emily was most likely dead then Morgan would lose it completely. "Put the gun down. This is what he wants."

But Morgan knew. He could see the truth written in Hotch's eyes. "No. She can't… she's not…" Morgan screamed. _"No."_

"Morgan if you shoot him, you'll be sent to jail," Hotch interjected with a sigh. "If you kill him. He will win."

Morgan knew this, but that didn't stop him from aiming his gun. He was torn, unsure of what to do. Would you give up your vengeance against someone you hated if it meant saving someone you love? Would you want your dreams to come true if it meant granting your enemy's dying wish?

When he opened his eyes and saw Mills for what he truly was, Morgan saw. He saw what Emily had gone through. He saw what Reid had been forced to do and had been turned into. Every truth, horror, and sin was written across Mills face. He just wanted justice. He knew now. He knew.

"Morgan…" Hotch gave one last plead before letting it die completely.

But Morgan was in his own world of wrath. Without hesitation, Morgan raised his gun and fired a bullet straight into Mills head.

He pulled the trigger again not more than a minute later.

**A/n: I hope you enjoyed it and I hoped everything made sense. I'm going to have one more chapter to conclude things. So if you're confused on certain things, hopefully I'll be able to explain it in the next chapter. Also! I'd like to point out that this whole story is based off the movie se7en with Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman. Again, I like thank you for all my reviews! Means a lot.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Yeahhhh! I finally finished it! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. Thank you for reading and all your reviews. Really means a lot. So here's the last chapters! I should warn you though… some of you probably won't like it. **

**-Seven-**

**Chapter 17**

It was a dark and dreary night. One that usually formed the ominous décor of a horror movie, but accurately described the time of day when a lonesome figure pulled the front door shut. As he stepped onto the sidewalk, he furtively glanced around to ensure that everything was still quiet. The streets were pretty much deserted. The couple walking on the other side of the street probably hadn't noticed him because of his black attire and the woman on his right side probably took him for a nurse or doctor taking a late-shift. But nonetheless, he still nodded at the woman before casually strolling over to the entrance door of the hospital. After all, it was always better to stay under the radar.

As he pushed the door open, he checked his watch. 2:05am -_perfect_. He would be out again before the nurses made their night rounds. He crossed the entrance hall briskly. No one saw him. No one stopped him. The elevator was with him in no time. It seemed almost ridiculous how casual he was standing in the center of the elevator cage. At last it reached the third floor. Again he walked briskly. He followed the hallway down to room 322. Though unnecessary, his eyes drifted down the hallway one last time to ensure he really was alone. He was. _Perfect. _

He shut the door softly behind him so as not to disturb the sleeping woman inside. She looked so peaceful, so innocent; like a small child. It was a shame that he'd have to wake her.

"I myself find it ironic that your room is 322. Don't you?" he asked her when she started to come to her senses. "After all, the sum of those numbers would equal seven."

She blinked in rapid succession. Whether this was to wash away the lack of sleep or convince herself that he was really there he couldn't be sure.

"You know," he continued tonelessly, "The number seven really is a fascinating number. There are seven days in a week, seven wonders in the ancient world, seven notes in the musical scale, and lets not forget the seven deadly sins."

Wide eye with fear and relief, she whispered, "…Reid."

The corners of his mouth turned upwards in a satisfied and slightly sadistic grin. "Hello, Emily."

A wave of determination forced her to sit up. She needed to know. She'd been awake for almost two days now and all she knew was that she had seven scars in her lower abdomen. Not to mention, she was completely exhausted. Never had she felt so drained, so weak in her entire life. Simple things like walking to the bathroom, or even talking had become difficult for her to handle.

She hated it.

"What happened? I've been awake for two days now and nobody will tell me anything," she rushed to get it all out. "I haven't seen you or Morgan since I woke up. I don't remember …." She trailed off and let the sentence die its own death. He had an odd expression on his face, one she wasn't familiar with and one she couldn't quite place.

"In almost every list pride or hubris, is considered the original and most serious of the seven deadly sins," he began, completely ignoring her. He looked at her with a dull, vacant, emotionless gaze. To her, it felt as if his brown eyes could see directly into her soul. "It is identified as a desire to be more important or attractive than others, failing to acknowledge the good work of others, and excessive love of self. Dante's definition was "love of self perverted to hatred and contempt for one's neighbor." In Jacob Bidermann's medieval miracle play, _Cenodoxus_, pride is the deadliest of all the sins and leads directly to the damnation of the titular famed Parisian doctor. In perhaps the best-known example, the story of Lucifer, pride was what caused his fall from Heaven, and his resultant transformation into Satan."

"Reid…I…" She had no idea what to say after his speech.

"I killed the demon inside you," he told her bluntly.

"I don't understand."

He shrugged. "They seldom do." After a moment's pause, he added, "What do you remember?"

"I don't remember anything." Her voice was small and weak. It hurt to talk. It hurt to breathe. It felt like she hadn't used it for years. "I remember the case… I remember Mills and the house." It was like trying to remember a long lost dream, an almost impossible task. "I remember the cell and you...and then…nothing." Tears threatened to fall from her eyes. "I don't remember."

This didn't seem to concern him. "All good things to those who wait."

She looked down at her tattooed wrist. Pride was etched crudely and permanently onto her skin. Even if she got it removed, she was sure it would leave a scar.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "It was my first try."

She pretended that he was just trying to be funny. "You know, Hotch said you'd show up eventually," she pointed out slowly.

Reid shrugged. "Did he?"

"He said I should call him as soon as you did." She eyed him suspiciously and intently, afraid that he would disappear at any given moment.

"And why haven't you?"

"I don't know," she admitted.

"You should be dead," he said bluntly, suddenly.

"I know." She had no idea what else to say. Honestly, a part of her wished she had. While she didn't remember, she knew the memories would come back eventually and she knew they would hurt. Plus, there was still a whole in her heat, one she didn't know how to fill and doubt she ever would. She had broken into a million pieces and she wasn't sure if she'd be able to put herself back together again.

They sat in silence for awhile before she chose to break it. "You're not coming back." It wasn't a question but a statement.

"No."

"Why did you come?" she asked with a small voice. "To say good bye?"

He shook his head. "No. To say hi."

She smiled weakly at him. "You don't have to leave, Reid…"

"Yes I do."

She nodded understanding, but not accepting. "I haven't seen Morgan…" she changed the subject. She had a sickening feeling that something had gone terribly wrong.

Reid, however, just shrugged. "I honestly have no idea."

She smiled weakly at him, but it was fake, forced. "No one will tell me anything. Rossi just changes the subject and Hotch doesn't say anything, and JJ and Garcia have been babying me."

"So JJ's okay?" he asked. His voice was odd, different. It was like the life had been sucked out of it. "That's good."

Emily looked him directly in the eye. "She has a concussion… She said it was an accident."

"It wasn't."

"I didn't think so." Emily paused, not sure where or how to begin. She knew she'd have to bring it up eventually. "What Mills did to us…"

A dark shadow crossed over his face. "Emily, don't," he snapped. There was such venom and hatred in his voice she had a hard time keeping tears out of her eyes.

"Reid…" her voice broke as she said it. "There are people who will help."

"People?" He spat. "Like those who helped my mother? Yes, let's throw Dr. Spencer Reid into a mental institution and lock him away forever. Doesn't matter that he attempted to murder someone. We'll just say he's schizophrenic. I mean, after all, it is a biological disease. Did you know that?"

"Reid that's not what I meant."

He let out a low laugh. "Emily, I can never go back," he whispered harshly. "Can't you see? Are you really that blind?"

"Reid, I understand that what Mills did to you was far worse than what he ever did to me," she argued. "I understand…"

But he just ignored her. "No you don't," he snapped suddenly. "You understand? Really? You understand, Emily… because I don't think you do."

Where before it had been melodious, now the sound of his voice grated on her raw nerves. He never made a move towards her, and yet it felt like that. And the slap that he never struck across her face left an imprint anyway – one that finally broke through the walls of her denial.

"I tortured you. Not mills. Me," Reid shouted at her. He was breathing heavy, his heart was racing, and his body was shaking, but he didn't stop. He needed to make her see. "I gave you that tattoo. I burned you. I cut you."

"Stop."

But he ignored her. "I broke you," he spat out. "I hit JJ over the head with a lamp so I could kidnap you and kill you."

"Please stop, Reid. I understand." She shook her head, desperate to keep the memories at bay. She didn't want to remember, knowing that it'd be so much harder to recover.

"I stabbed you seven times. Not once, but seven. _Seven _times until I felt your soul slowly fade away. How can you say everything will go back to normal?"

"Reid… Please…" She was sobbing now and she struggled against him, but it was of no use. He pinned them down to her side with a firm holding grip. He had yelled at her before, but not like this. Not like this. It tore her to pieces from the inside out. "But it's over now," she told him softly.

He took a deep breath and just like that he was calm again. "It's not. I'll have to continue in his name, Emily."

Her heart dropped from out of her chest and onto the floor. This couldn't be happening. Everything she had known had been taken from her all in a matter of months. How could the world be so cruel? How could the person she thought she knew change so drastically? But looking at him now she knew he was past the point of no return. This wasn't the Reid she knew.

He died a long time ago.

And somehow she still had hope. "Reid…"

He leaned forward then and took hold of her hand. "Nobody wants to admit to this, but bad things will keep on happening," he whispered so softly she could hardly hear him. "Maybe that's because it's all a chain, and a long time ago someone did the first bad thing, and that led someone else to do another bad thing, and so on." She was crying as he told her this. "But then again," he went on, "maybe bad things happen because it's the only way we can keep remembering what good is suppose to look like. I'm going to stop the bad Em. You watch."

He reached forward and wiped away her tears. "Reid… not you…."

She was suddenly afraid of him, an emotion which surprised her. He must have seen it in her eyes because he gently began to whisper soothing words. "I have no plans to hurt you again, Emily. I killed the demon in you. You're safe now." He smiled at her. "Besides, the world is much more interesting with you in it."

"Reid," she begged. "You don't have to do this. We can cope. We can help each other through this."

He glanced at the clock and frowned. He had outstayed his welcome here. "I'm going to miss you, Emily. Send my regards to the rest of the team," he said as heaved himself to his feet. "Tell them I'm sorry." He meant it too.

She scrambled to pull him back, anything to make him stay, but he stepped away. "Spencer…"

"I do wish we could talk longer, but I'll be visiting an old friend for dinner." The corners of his lips tugged upwards at the thought. "He never did explain why he left," he added after a second thought.

Emily's eyes grew wide once she realized who he was talking about. "Gideon? Reid…_"_

He locked eyes with hers. "He was always so_ proud_ of himself. Don't you think, Em?"

She struggled to move, but the pain that shot through her body was unbearable. She felt so weak, so tired. Shaking slightly, she reached out to push the nurse button, but Reid gently took her hand in his before she could reach it.

"Shhhhh. Go to sleep Emily."

"Reid… _please," _she sobbed, begged. She'd do anything to make him stay.

"That's not my name anymore," Reid told her softly.

She gave him a confused look, waiting for him to explain, but he didn't. Only now did she realize that he was holding a syringe in his hand. He tested it to see if it worked. It did.

Emily tried to cry out, but her voice wasn't working. All she managed was a muffled cry.

"You'll wake up in a couple of hours," he told her calmly. "Feel free to tell the team. I'll be long gone by then." He paused. "Now go to sleep, Em." This time he pierced the needle into her IV. The effects were almost immediate. Within minutes, her eyes began to droop and the room started to spin.

"No…Reid…please" she mumbled, but she wasn't even sure if the words were ever brought to life.

"Goodnight, Emily," he whispered as her eyes drifted shut. "Until next time."

Grinning, he patiently waited in the shadows. Almost everyone in the Hospital was still asleep. Not a single soul was aware of the spectacle he had carefully prepared. In about eight hours Emily would recover enough to call for help. The local police and the team would gather in her room in a wave of confusion. All the while he would be long gone. Humming softly to himself, he slipped out of the room, casually walked out of the building, and disappeared into the night in search for his next sinner.

"_**An insincere and evil friend is more to be feared than a wild beast; a wild beast may wound your body, but an evil friend will wound your mind," **_**Buddha**

**THE END**

**So I know a lot of you probably did not like this ending, but with everything Reid and Emily went through, I doubt they'd be the same. Besides, happy endings can be cheesy. Hahaha. Also, I didn't really say anything about Morgan because I decided to leave that up in the air. Anywho. I hoped you liked it all the same. **


End file.
